Insanity of a Talking, Moving Puppet
by Brat-Child3
Summary: Cartman and Wendy want revenge. On Stan and Kyle, on each other, on everyone who gets in their way. See Cartman yell. See Wendy scream. See Artemus Clyde Frog take the upper hand. CxW SxK SxW
1. Detention

**Authors Note: **Hey guys. This is a RP I did with Kyleisgod a while ago. Finally getting around to posting it. It's LONG, so... Please review. :)

**Disclaimer: **No own South Park.

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**Chapter 1- Detention.**

"Oh great," a female voice called from across the room. It was Wendy. "It's bad enough I get detention for protesting, now I have to waste an hour with you? GOD!"

Cartman froze, halfway to his usual seat in detention. The shrill, almost annoying voice had cut off his quiet singing of "The cheesy poof jingle". A smirk crossed his face as he sat down, eyes glinting at the raven haired girl. "Hey, ho. It's so good to see you, too." His voice was laced with false sweetness.

Wendy glared at the fat boy. "Just be quiet and stay away from me." She quickly pulled a magazine out from her school bag, obviously needing to kill time.

"I see 'Ho Weekly' must have their newest edition out." He observed, leaning over to peak at it. "What kind of hooker dilemma's are they solving this week?"

"Fuck off Cartman!" she replied, already getting annoyed with him. "Maybe you'd know what I was reading if you ever opened more than a cook book."

"Aye!" He exclaimed, finally offended. "I've never opened a cookbook in my life! What do I look like, a god damn chef? I'm not black!"

Wendy rolled her eyes and attempted to continue reading. "...I should've known you'd be in here. Detention is probably like your second home."

"No, Shakey's is my second home." He replied, all anger whisked away once again. "Yours must be that hotel down in the ghetto. What's the usual room? Sixty-nine, is it?"

Wendy growled under her breath a bit. "Why do you insist on calling me a ho? You know damn well there are plenty of slutty girls at this school, and I'm certainly not one of them."

Cartman scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You have to be some kind of a ho to have Stan whipped so easily." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Then again, he always has been a fucking pussy."

"Stan's a very sweet guy. I don't 'whip' him, he just treats me nicely. Maybe that's why he has a girlfriend and you don't."

The words hit him like a smack in the face, but hell would freeze over before he allowed anyone, especially the hippie whore, know that she had hit a weak spot. He quickly regained his composure. "It just so happens... I _do_ have a girlfriend." He looked down at his desk, eyes narrowed. "You skank."

Wendy smirked. "Oh yeah? What's her name?"

His eyes shifted hastily, trying to think of something, _anything, _believable. Something he liked. His thoughts quickly drifted to his lunch. "Cookie." He answered matter-of-factly. "Her name is Cookie."

Wendy scoffed, though she seemed to buy it. "You're dating a girl named Cookie? Gee, there's a surprise." she said sarcastically.

"Oh no, is that Jealousy I hear?" A telltale smirk back in place.

Wendy's jaw dropped a bit, shocked he would even suggest such a thing. "Oh, yeah right! Like I'd _ever_ want to date you. Sick!"

His eyebrows knit in furry. "Oh, dating _me _is sick, but I guess it's all sugar and honey getting a mouthful of puke whenever you try to make-out with your 'perfect' boyfriend, isn't that right Wendy? You're a puke-eating, motel screwing, goddamn hippie!"

She paused a second. It was true what he'd said about Stan, but god forbid she ever let him think he was right. "Yeah well, I'm sure not vomiting is all you have to offer a girl."

"I don't have to offer anything," He promised with determination. "I'm so hot that... that girls throw themselves at me all the time! The other day I was walking down the street and... some chick with huge tits ripped off her shirt and... and threw it at me. She was so hot for me."

Wendy giggled a bit, obviously too smart to believe all of Cartman's bullshit. "Yeah, right..." She went back to reading her magazine a moment, but she had to ask. She was already half-way through the articles as it was. "...What's she like?"

"The chick with big tits?" He asked, a bit confused.

"Cookie," she explained. "What's she like?"

_Mmm cookies_, He thought, feeling his stomach grumble. "Cookie?" He repeated dumbly, blinking a few times. "Oh, Cookie, my... hot ass girlfriend." He glanced around. "What about her?"

"I'm just curious what kind of girl would actually date...you...What's she look like?"

He refused to panic. He _never_ did. There was always a way to screw with peoples heads, and he was just the person to do it. He found himself studying the girl beside him, carefully taking in everything about her. "She has really bright, blue eyes... And long, dark hair, and she's... she's got a dimple on her cheek when she smiles." He realized the gay-ass smile on his face as he spoke and quickly broke his gaze from her eyes. "And not a ho, like you."

"Hm...She sounds nice," Wendy confessed. "I guess some girls are just drawn to people like you."

He looked down at his hands, picking at his cuticles. The hippie never said anything nice to him. It made him feel awkward. "You know what they say about- festively plump guys. More cushion for the pushin'."

Wendy reluctantly giggled a bit. She couldn't help it. Sometimes Cartman's remarks were pretty funny, albeit in a loveable simpleton sort of way. "Please. I don't even wanna _think_ of you doing...that." She shuddered.

The evil glint returned, lighting up his entire face. "Chef says that a prostitute is someone who'll make sweet love to you no matter who you are. That means you _do_ think about me doing that to _you_." His smile increased. "Maybe we should ask Stan..."

"Like I'd ever confuse you for Stan." Wendy put her magazine away, apparently having finished all she cared to read.

"I know, whoever is stupid enough to confuse me with that asshole needs to be castrated."

"...You know," Wendy began reluctantly "in a way, I guess I'm sort of almost glad you're here. Yelling at you certainly helps the time go faster."

Cartman shrugged. "I don't give a fuck whether you're here or not. Normally I'll just play with my frog." He pulled his stuffed animal out of his desk and held it up for her inspection.

Wendy blinked, not totally sure how to take this information. "Huh...And that doesn't get boring?"

"Clyde frog isn't boring!" He wailed, pulling it onto his lap. "He's my best friend in the whole world, and he always helps me come up with ideas that are totally tits."

"Excuse me?" Wendy furrowed her eyebrows in anger. "Totally what? God, that's so sexist."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, here we go again," He huffed, leaning his cheek against his palm. "Don't you ever get tired of being a feminist bitch? Cause I know I'm fucking sick of hearing you moan like Kyle's mom."

"It's not a crime to have beliefs, Cartman." she countered. "Women in this country have been held down and treated like shit for years. You don't know what that's like."

"What's next, a history lesson about the pain and torment of your period?" He hummed in boredom. "Pop a Midol and get the sand out of your vagina."

Wendy gathered her things in an angry huff. "You know what? Fuck this, I'm leaving. There's no way I can spend another forty-five minutes with you and your stupid frog!"

"Aye! Clyde frog is _not_ stupid, goddamnit!"

"Are you planning to be here tomorrow?" she asked, still sounding angry.

He paused a moment, eyeing her suspiciously. "No one plans to get detention, _or_ come to school."

"Well, knowing you!" she said, not needing to elaborate further. She dropped the subject and stormed out in a bit of a huff.

---

Following the nasty detention experience, Wendy headed for home. She calmed down on the way back. Being away from Cartman had that effect. When she arrived, she was pleasantly surprised to find her boyfriend, Stan, waiting at her doorstep.

"Hey!" Stan said, happy she'd finally home to let him inside the house if nothing else.

"Stan!" She exclaimed, letting her shock melt away to a smile. "Hi! What are you doing here?"

"Oh. Well, I wanted to talk to you...Did you have a good day?"

Her smile dropped, twisting into an angry frown when she remembered Cartman. "I had detention. Cartman was there." She offered no further explanation, figuring that was all that was needed.

"Really? That sucks...You want me to beat him up?" he offered, figuring his fat friend must've pissed her off to no end, as usual.

Her smile returned immediately. "That's sweet, Stan. But you know violence isn't the answer." She scolded lightly, completely brushing off the fact that once upon a time she had sent a substitute teacher to the center of the sun. "Besides, I feel much better now that you're here." She leaned forward, catching his lips in a kiss.

As was Stan's custom, he turned his head and vomited, his hand clutching his stomach. "Ugh...Sorry..."

"Gross!" She exclaimed, jerking back slightly.

Stan sighed. "That's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about...B-but if your day sucked maybe I should come back later."

"No, don't go," She grabbed the sleeve of his arm quickly and held firm. "Want to come inside? We can talk there."

"Sure."

She cast him an uneasy smile, slightly nervous about what this "talk" would consist of. The door twisted open easily, unlocked despite her parents absence. Sliding her hand from the material of his shirt to cup his, she led him inside and to the couch. "What was it you wanted to say?"

Stan took a deep breath, preparing himself for this moment. "...Wendy, I...Well, every time we try to kiss and stuff, I always...w-well you know..." He blushed slightly with embarrassment.

"You barf." She finished for him. "And?" She encouraged him to go on.

"And, it fucking sucks dude." Stan hung his head a bit. "I can't take it anymore. I really wanna stop doing it, you know? ...The thing is, I-I'm not sure how...But I've been thinking about it."

She let the silence enclose them for a moment, taking in his solemn expression. She had never seen him this way before. "And what about it have you thought?"

Stan took hold of her hand, not quite able to look at her as he spoke. "Wendy, I love you. You know I do...But I can't keep doing this. One day I'm gonna get married, or have sex or something. Hopefully with you. And when that happens, I can't still be puking all the time...So, until I can figure out what to do, I think maybe we should...er...s-see other people." He tensed up, bracing himself.

She ripped her hand away, cradling it with the other as if she had been burned. "Is this your idea of a joke? Stan, that's not funny!"

Stan frowned. "I...I'm serious Wendy. I wish I wasn't. Believe me I do..."

It was her turn to grab his hand. She swallowed back nausea. "I don't care if you puke on me. How are you ever going to get over it if we don't work on it together?"

"I'm really sorry," he said, sounding very sincere. "I think I just need to get away from you for a while. It's nothing personal, it's just that that way I can figure out why this is happening. I can figure out if it happens with...other girls...a-and fix it from there...I'm doing this for you...For us...You're really sweet for overlooking the problem, but I can't anymore."

This time, she threw his hand back at him, eyes narrowing to slits so cold it would make the devil himself shiver. "This isn't about us. This is about "other girls" isn't it?" She accused, rising from the couch to hiss down at him. "You already found someone else, and this is just some lame excuse to get rid of me!"

Stan shook, clearly afraid of her and with good reason. "No! Wendy, I-I haven't even thought about other girls. It's just that...well, you have to admit this problem only happens around you. If I dated another girl, _any_ girl, for a while and it still happened...well, then I'd know a little more about this and how to fix it."

"Out." She whispered in the purest form of anger. "Just get out."

Stan stood up from the couch. He was frowning, but still heading for the door as commanded. "...I'm really sorry."

"Out!" She repeated, her shout echoing off the walls.

"Gah!" Stan bolted for his home, not wanting to experience the wrath of an angry woman, let alone a feminist.

Wendy sat with her back against her front door, knees to her chest and teary eyes buried in them. The sun had almost completely disappeared behind the mountains, but she didn't care. In fact, she welcomed the darkness.

----

Before she could cry too much, she heard a knock at the door. It was probably either her parents back home, or Stan coming back to apologize and beg for forgiveness. Wendy stood and opened the door, looking a wee bit hopeful. Once the door opened however, she found neither Stanley nor her parents, but an angry looking Eric Cartman. It was the last thing she expected, or needed, right now.

"All right ho, where is it!" Cartman asked.

"Where's what?" She shot back. "Your brain or your respect for other people?"

"Neither!" he said, obviously not getting the nature of the remark. "Clyde Frog. I had him with me when I left detention, and now he's gone!"

She rolled her eyes heavenward. "And what would I want with that disgusting, drool rag?"

"I don't know, but you have him!" he said accusingly. "Goddammit, Clyde Frog is _my _toy, and I want him back. Now!"

She wasn't in the mood. If he wanted to be an asshole and accuse her, she wasn't going to deny it, truth or otherwise. "He's on his way to Aspen to be _disceted_!" She informed. "I'd be happy to send you right along with him, I hear they're dissecting pigs next!"

Cartman's face grew angrier. "That is not funny, okay? If you hurt him Wendy I swear to god...Clyde Frog!" Cartman began calling out, as if the stuffed animal would actually answer him. "Clyde Frog! Did she hurt you?"

"Damnit." She hissed. "I don't have your stupid toy, Cartman! If you don't believe me, why don't you just barge in a take and look around!"

"Well if he's not here, then you shouldn't mind me looking around a bit."

She stepped to the side with much more force than needed. "Get in, get out, and don't let the door hit you in the ass!"

Cartman headed inside, determined to find his friend/pet/toy. "Trust me, I don't wanna stay here any longer than necessary."

She followed close on his heels. "You won't find one piece of dick frog anywhere in this house! And stay out of my room, I don't want you contaminating it!"

"AHA!" Cartman said. "Obviously that means he's right in your room!" Cartman ran around the house, trying to find where exactly her room was.

"Don't you dare, fatass!" She threatened, chasing him down. "I have personal things in there!"

"I don't care about your bong or your panties. I want my fucking frog." Cartman entered her room against her wishes, and carefully began looking around.

She closed her eyes to regain composure, hoping to God her mother hadn't laid out clean undergarments today. "Cartman," She growled, standing in the doorway and folding her arms. "Please, go away." She felt her strength dissipating. Her break-up with Stan was still too fresh in her heart.

"Wendyyy!" he whined. "I'll go away when I find my frooog!" Cartman himself was getting pretty tired, already having to do a lot more walking around than he had planned today. "Look, this'll go a lot faster if you just tell me where he is. I know you took him, hippie, and I-" He was cut off by the sound of an obnoxious ring tone. "One second." Cartman pulled out a cell phone from his pocket.

"You've got to be kidding me," She huffed. "What are you, a pimp now?"

Cartman glared at her. "I can hit like one. Wanna see?" He answered his phone. "Hello? ...Oh, hi mom. Yeah, Clyde Frog's missing so I- ...Y..You what? ...Oh..." Cartman lowered his eyes, already appearing a tad embarrassed. "O-okay...Bye..." He hung up the phone.

"Let me guess," Wendy started, uncrossing her arms and moving to the center of the room. "She has your frog."

"Sh...She washed it while I was in the bathroom...Heh..." He blushed a bit.

She sighed and sunk to her bed, too weary to rub it in his face. Instead, all that emerged was an inaudible, "Asshole".

"Yeah well, my theory made sense otherwise, so fuck you."

She blinked back the tears pricking her eyes and sniffed. "Just get out of here and get your stupid frog."

Cartman blinked, noticing her starting to break down a bit. This clearly wasn't the usual "fun" banter he had gotten used to between them.

"...Hey, a-are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She lied. It came out a pathetic squeak. A curtain of glossy raven hair fell over her face when she hid her eyes with her hands.

Cartman didn't buy it. You can't bullshit a bullshitter. Of course he didn't know why she was upset, but he naturally assumed he was at fault, as usual.

"...Hey look, I-I didn't mean to make you cry, dude. Christ, I'll leave your room okay? Chill."

"You think I would care this much about you?" She exploded, lifting her head and exposing her puffy, red eyes. "It has nothing to do with you! It's your asshole friend! I should have known better than date _anyone_ associated with you!"

"Whoa, WHOA! Calm down! ...Which asshole friend? I've got like ten assholes I hang out with."

"Stan, who else?" She screamed. "Stan, Stan, Stan! He proved me wrong tonight! You really aren't the biggest dick, he is!" She relaxed noticeably, realization seeming to dawn on her. "You know who it is, don't you?" She stood and lunged at him, nearly knocking him over when she grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Who the hell is she?"

"AH! I don't know anything! I swear!"

Her grip tightened. "You lying son of a bitch!" The tears exploded in another round, and she shoved him to the carpet painfully.

Cartman brushed himself off. He honestly felt he could take her in a fight, but he decided to let it go. "Dude, I'm seriously. I don't know, okay? Stan doesn't tell me about his love life cuz I don't give a shit. If anybody he'd tell Kyle..." Cartman's eyes lit up a bit. "Now, if you wanted to go interrogate Kyle about it, well, I bet you'd get information."

"Kyle," She parroted through liquid heartache. "He's always..." She gulped back more tears, "He's always taking Stan's attention away from me."

"Could you please tell me what the hell's going on?" Cartman asked. "If I'm gonna rip on Stan tomorrow, I need to know why."

"He said he wanted to see other people!" She blurted, unable to contain any of her emotions anymore. "Whenever someone says 'I want to see other people' there's already another person!" She inhaled deeply and exhaled it out slowly. "Cartman, you're a manipulative, backstabbing, lying son of a bitch, and because of that, I need your help."

"Thanks." Cartman said, truly proud of Wendy's remarks. "...But why should I help you?"

"Normally I would say you should help me out of the goodness of your heart," She mused, wiping droplets off her long eyelashes. "But, considering you have no heart, I'll give you fifty bucks to torment the information out of Kyle."

"...Torment Kyle you say?" He grinned. "Dude, you suck at negotiating. I'd torture Kyle for free!"

"Damnit," She cursed. "Do we have a deal?"

"Sure!" Cartman shook her hand in agreement. "I'll find out who Stan's banging. Even if I have to kill Kyle to do it."

"Don't kill him!" She exclaimed. "God, Cartman, don't you have any conscience at _all_?"

Cartman thought about this, and shrugged. "Somewhere...Deep down...Probably..."

She gave a short laugh and shook her head. "Just do it. The sooner the better."

"Damn right." He grinned, plotting his interrogation methods already. "...Once you find out, what're you gonna do to the skank?"

A smirk almost as evil as Cartman's trademark "plotting" grin crossed her face. "That... will take some serious consideration."

Cartman headed for the door, his eyes locked on Wendy's face a moment as he left. He had to admit, she was pretty cool when she was evil. Cute, too.

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_-Kyleisgod & Brat-Child3_


	2. A Sweet Team

**Authors Note: **You like it, hurray! Since it's all written out already, updates will be frequent. This is where it really starts getting good. Reviews are really appreciated, thanks so much.

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**Chapter 2- A Sweet Team.**

The next school day arrived. Kyle and Stan were eating lunch together, as usual.

"Did you do it?" Kyle asked between bites of his Jewish rye bread.

Stan's blank eyes remained focused on his untouched can of apple juice. There was a pause, and finally, "Did you say something?"

"I'll take that as a yes...I'm sorry dude, but you know it's better this way."

"I guess." He clanked his juice against the table. "She was so... _pissed off_. I've never seen her that way."

"Well sure she was pissed. Anyone would be. She'll get over it."

He glanced over at his best friend and sighed deeply. A trace of sadness could be seen in the soft smile he offered.

"It always sucks dumping someone. No one goes away feeling good. But sometimes it just...needs to be done. Come on, this is the first day of your vomit-free life."

"That is kind of nice," He admitted. "But now I have a different problem. Instead of all my food coming up, I can't get anything down." He glanced down at his food, feeling a new kind of nausea consume him.

"That sucks. Your stomach is fucked up, dude."

"Screw you." He replied good-naturedly. "Hey," He suddenly spoke up, looking around in every direction. "Have you seen Cartman today?"

"Nope," Kyle said, smiling happily. "Maybe he got hit by a car. That'd be awesome."

"Yeah," Stan agreed, laughing at the thought. His smile faltered, his expression registering thoughtfulness. "Speaking of getting hit by a car, I haven't seen Kenny, either."

Kyle frowned. "Yeah. Poor Kenny."

To the dismay of the boys, Cartman approached their table. "Hello gentlemen," he greeted.

"Oh, god, we spoke too soon." Stan moaned.

"We were hoping you'd be dead." Kyle pouted, disappointed the dream hadn't come true.

"Yeah? Well the feeling's mutual." Cartman replied.

"Ass rammer." Stan breathed. "Where's Kenny?"

"Dead." Cartman said matter-of-factly. "I've got a more important question though. Word around school is you dumped Wendy."

"Word around the school is you use your mom's dildo. What's your point?" Stan snapped.

"You've had a crush on her for years. Obviously you don't just stop being a pussy and dump her without a good reason."

"I don't think that's any of your business, Cartman." Kyle said.

"Yeah, ass wipe." Stan agreed heatedly. "You're an even bigger dumb ass than you're given credit for if you think I'm going to tell you crap about any of my personal life."

"God, it's not like you're the one who got dumped. C'mon, why you'd do it? Is she a whore like I've always suspected?"

"She's not a whore, lard ass!" Stan slapped his hand on the tabletop, creating a loud '_SMACK!' _and spilling his juice in the process. "I just think we should take a break, that's all! God damn you're a nosey bastard!"

He shot up from the uncomfortable bench, kicking it purposely after he had rose fully and stormed away.

"Why do you suddenly give a shit about Stan's love life anyway?" Kyle asked.

"Why do you give a shit if I give a shit?" Cartman replied, suspicious of the Jew.

"...Just fuck off." Kyle said simply, standing up to go off with Stan.

---

Stan and Kyle met up after school, as they had done many times before. Once Kyle arrived at Stan's house, they immediately headed upstairs, locking Stan's bedroom door behind them. They shut the blinds to the windows and sat on Stanley's bed.

"So, how're you?" the black-haired boy asked his friend.

He blinked twice. "How am _I?" _He repeated. "You're the one who just broke up with his girlfriend, bitched out Cartman, and ran away like a pussy at lunch."

Stan sighed. "You think he knows?"

Kyle looked heavenward, gnawing his lower lip in consideration. "No." He decided, though somewhat hesitantly. He directed his train of vision back to the profile beside him. "But he knows _something_. Why else would he be asking so many questions?"

Stan nodded in agreement. "He's probably too stupid to figure it out...We'll be fine," he said after a moment, wanting to get off the negative subject.

Kyle shook his head vigorously. "As much as I hate to admit it, he isn't stupid. He's smart as hell, especially when it comes to manipulation. If you keep freaking out like you did today, he's going to figure it out. He's like a fucking shark with a weight problem, he can smell fear, and he feeds off of it."

"Ugh." Stan said, knowing inside that Kyle was right. He usually was, being so smart and all. That's one reason Stan liked him so much. "Okay, okay...I'll try to be cool."

"Trying isn't good enough, you have to _be_ cool." He snapped, then signed stressfully. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be such a bastard about it."

Stan shrugged. "It's okay. I know how you get when Cartman's involved." Stan took Kyle's hand in his own, squeezing it gently. "...I dunno. I think we're doing pretty good keeping it quiet."

He laced his fingers around Stan's, oblivious himself he had done so and nodded slowly. "You can't keep a secret forever," He whispered, remembering something his dad had told him years ago.

"I know...But I'm not ready for people to find out. Not yet, you know? Life's hard enough as it is without that shit." Stan looked over at his friend, their hands locked together. "...You still haven't told me how you're doing."

Kyle's eyes drifted from his lap upward, until the green of his melted with the blue of Stan's. "I know I haven't."

Stan frowned, feeling bad for his friend. "That bad, huh? I'm sorry." Stan gave Kyle's hand another gentle squeeze.

The boys paused a moment, letting the conversation sink in. A small grin then appeared on Stanley's face.

"...Wanna relieve some stress?"

An identical smile mirrored Stan's, but quickly faded when he remember how depressed Stan had been about breaking up with Wendy. Obviously, his feelings for the girl still ran deep. "No." He released the hand clamped around his and stood from the bed. "I need to go home, before my mom gives me another lecture about curfews."

"Oh. Okay." Stan said, trying not to sound too disappointed. He certainly didn't want to push Kyle into anything; no matter how they might have felt.

"Hey Kyle? I just...um...well, you know..."

He paused with his hand on the doorknob and couldn't help but smile. Stan was adorable when he was nervous. "Know, what?"

"How...h-how I feel." Stan said, blushing. "I care...Ya know...About you..." He glanced at the floor, embarrassed.

It always amazed him how Stan could make everything seem right with the world by one choppy sentence. His smile brightened as he charged at his flustered friend, tackling him to the bed. "I know." He promised.

Stan laughed a bit due to Kyle's aggressive behavior. "Good," he said, glad the red-head could always understand him when he spoke in nervous fragments. They had that sort of bond it seemed. One of Stan's hands slowly moved to the back of Kyle's neck. He gently pushed the boy's face closer down to his own, and locked their lips together in a small kiss.

Kyle didn't pull away, but immediately deepened the kiss and relaxed fully, allowing Stan to absorb his full weight. It still made him nervous to be this close, that much was obvious by the fluttering in his stomach. But it never lasted long, not after he was lost in the taste and feel.

Stan's hand ran through Kyle's red hair. Obviously he had no trouble kissing Kyle, unlike when he did it with Wendy. Stan held the smooch for as long as he could before pulling his own lips back to breathe. He obviously enjoyed doing it quite a bit. Stan stared into Kyle's sexy green eyes, his breath short as he spoke.

"...Y...You sure you have to go home?"

Kyle let out a long, slow breath and glanced at the green numbers on Stan's alarm clock. He looked back down and smiled suggestively.

"I have twenty minutes."

Stan said nothing. He didn't have to. He simply raised his head and brought his lips back to Kyle's as his free hand reached over on the bed for a blanket to pull overtop of their bodies.

---

The next school day passed without any incidents. After school, Cartman went through his usual ritual as he prepared for detention. He gathered up some comics, his book bag, and of course Clyde Frog, and made his way to the normally empty classroom. As he entered the room and took his usual seat, he noticed Wendy was once again joining him today. He blinked, then laughed.

"Christ, you're here again? What'd you protest this time?"

"They wanted to dissect frogs for science. They caught me releasing them in Starks Pond." She admitted coolly.

Cartman looked at her oddly, then sighed. "Dude, if you're gonna get detention it should at least be for something kewl. Who gives a fuck about frogs?"

"Why don't you take a look in your backpack and then decide if you still want to ask such a stupid question." She shot back, knowing full well Clyde frog resided inside.

Cartman glared. "That's different. Clyde Frog is...he's...Well he's way cooler than the frogs you let go! I bet they can't even talk!"

"Neither can your stupid toy!"

"Can too! I'll show you." Cartman produced the toy from his bag, holding it in front of his own face. As usual, he began speaking for the toy in his own special voice. "Hi. I'm Clyde Frog."

"Oh.. my...God." She spoke more to herself then to him. "What are you, the fat version of Mr. Garrison before he got a sex change? You two are the only people I know that talk to themselves through the use of _dolls_."

"You need to loosen up," Clyde Frog suggested.

She grabbed the offensive green doll by its head and ripped it away violently. "There's more important issues at hand here. Are you making good on our deal?"

"Kind of. I know damn well something's going on. And I know Kyle knows what it is."

She squeezed Clyde Frog to relieve stress as she spoke. "Any ideas what that 'something' might be?"

"Not really," Cartman confessed. "But it's probably another woman like you said. Stan would need a really good reason to drop you."

Her death grip loosened considerably on the unfortunate object she held. "What makes you think that?"

Cartman blinked. Oops. He had been caught in a compliment. "Oh...Well, you know, because he liked you so much and...and everything."

She looked down, disappointed for a reason even she was unsure of. "Yeah," she agreed, holding out Clyde Frog as an offering. "I guess nothing lasts forever."

Cartman took his toy back. "I guess not. Life's a bitch huh?"

"A bigger bitch than Kyle's mom." She pointed out, smiling slightly to herself at the remembrance of Cartman's oh-so-flattering song.

"Heh-heh. Yeah." He smiled back at her. "But don't you worry. I'm gonna get that information out of Kyle."

"How?" She questioned. "I've been watching them all day. They haven't done anything different than they normally do. If there is another girl, I don't know where he's hiding her. I would think he would at least be sending glances her way, but he's still in his own little world with Kyle."

Cartman put a hand to his chin, pondering this information. "Well, I know Kyle will tell me. His brother is coming home late on a field trip tomorrow. Once I have Ike, Kyle will tell us what we need to know."

_"You're going to take his little brother hostage?" _She shrieked. "Cartman!"

He shrugged. "Just as insurance. Kyle would never let me hurt that kid. He'll tell me everything before I even hit him once."

"There's got to be another way." She insisted, still suffering from disbelief.

He crossed his arms. "Like what?"

"Maybe she could try being 'nicer' to the Jew." Clyde Frog suggested.

"I'm always nice!"

Cartman shook his head. "I think he means 'nicer' to him. You know, like how you're 'nice' to the guys in the motels that have five bucks and a bed to sleep in."

She shot up from her desk, pointing a finger directly at him. "I am _not_ going to seduce Kyle!"

"Eh, I guess I can't blame you. He _is_ Jewish. What were you thinking, Clyde Frog?"

She sat back down, fire still flickering in her eyes. With a sigh, she added "A hostage it is."

"Good." Cartman said, grinning devilishly. "Now then, how do we kill time in hyaw?"

"I like to organize my debates, or catch up on studying. There is that big history exam coming up." She suggested.

"...I see." Cartman blinked, then suddenly burst into a coughing fit. "NERD! NERD!" he coughed into his hand.

She growled beneath her breath, squeezing her fingers around the pencil she held so tight that it snapped in half. "And how would you rather spend it? Besides being a complete asshole and annoying me.

"I'll show you how. Follow me."

Cartman grabbed Clyde Frog and headed for a small janitor's closet in the back of the classroom.

She watched him momentarily, bewilderment in her eyes as she searched the classroom with her eyes, and against her better judgment, followed him.

Once inside the closet, Cartman reached upward. He grabbed the cover to a small vent and pushed it away, revealing an air shaft they could escape the room through.

"Oh, no," she protested, dark, shiny locks whipping across her face as she shook her head. "You're just asking for another week of detention. I'm not going anywhere." She crossed her arms sternly.

"Aw come on," he said. "This thing leads everywhere. You have to do it, it's so kewl."

"What's so 'kewl' about creeping through an air shaft, getting caught in five minutes, and coming straight back here, anyway?"

"Why do you assume we're gonna get caught?" Cartman asked. "Don't treat me like I'm an amateur here."

"You _are_ an amateur," she huffed. "Don't you ever get sick of doing things wrong?"

"Don't you ever get sick of doing the 'right' thing? In fact, would you say it's 'right' of them to stick you in here? All you did was set some animals free, and what did they do? They locked you up for it. Are you just gonna take that shit?"

She opened her mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again. He had a point there, she had to admit, even if it was only to herself. "Fine," she caved darkly. "Lets get this over with before I change my mind."

Cartman smirked. He loved it when he won. He and his trusty frog entered the vent first, leading the way.

"It's too dark in here. I can't see where I'm going." She complained.

"Right now we're crawling over the AV room," Cartman said. "Pretty soon we'll hit the fork in the road. Then we go left for the locker rooms, or right for the cafeteria. Where do you wanna go anyway?" Apparently the fat boy had done this before. That, or he was just full of more shit and acted like he knew what he was doing. Wendy would certainly soon find out.

"I want to get out of here is what I want, I don't care where." She paused to blow her bangs out of her eyes. "If we go to the locker rooms, we'll have to pass the principals office. If we go to the cafeteria, there's an exit out the back, but the clean-up ladies might still be there. Any way you look at it we're fucked."

Cartman smirked. "You know, we make a pretty good team."

Normally she would be flattered, but right now she just wasn't in the mood. Claustrophobia was beginning to set in, and Jesus, that had better be a draft and not a spider creeping over her ankle. "A pretty good team if we want to be royally screwed in the ass. Just get us out of here. _Now!"_

"Yeah, yeah. You need to get screwed in the ass." Cartman muttered.

She grit her teeth and shoved him forcefully. _"Now!"_

"Okay! God, chill. I've got this under control."

Cartman headed for the cafeteria. Wendy, of course, had no choice but to follow him. He reached the air shaft and kicked it out, before jumping down to the sweet floor of freedom. The cleaning crew was present, as Wendy had suspected, but Cartman had a plan for them.

"RUN! IMMIGRATION!" he yelled out to the brown-skinned janitors.

Wendy covered her mouth, muffling her hearty laugh as she watched everyone scatter like disturbed marbles. "I've got to admit, that's pretty underhanded." She shouted down to him.

Cartman held out his hand, helping her get down from the ceiling vent. "Thank you" he said proudly. "Like I said dude, we make a good team. With your brains, and my total lack of morals and stuff, we could totally own this school if we wanted."

She uncapped her hand from his and straightened her clothes. "I think we had better stick to finding out what's going on with Stan for now."

Cartman nodded. "And we will find out." He smiled. "So we're free. Let's get out of nyaw."

She smiled easily and looked toward the exit. Freedom really was worth the risk.

* * *

_Kyleisgod & Brat-Child3_


	3. Potato Sack Jew

**Authors Note: **Hmm... Reviews were scarce last chapter, but I do appreciate the ones we got. Thank you. :)

* * *

**Chapter 3- Potato Sack Jew:**

Clyde Frog sat perched amid the tattered sheets and blankets on Cartman's bed, watching as the said boy paced, pausing every few minutes to stare out the window into the chilly night.

"What do you think Wendy's doing right now?" he asked his inanimate friend. "Probably studying like always. Stupid hippie has no life...Or she's crying over Stan again. Pff!"

"Jealous?" Clyde frog questioned tauntingly.

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah right. Like I'd really be jealous of that. Wendy might be smart...And pretty...And evil when she wants to be...But she's _not_ all that okay?"

"Keep telling yourself that. In the meantime, she'll keep crying over Stan because you're too much of a pussy to do anything about it."

"I am not a pussy! And I am gonna do something about it. Once I figure out what he's up to, she'll totally hate Stan's guts."

"You're so sure?" He asked, adding an inaudible "pussy" in for good measure. "What if she loves him more?"

Cartman raised an eyebrow. "...You really think that's possible?"

"Anything's possible." Clyde Frog answered him, voice sounding out but mouth unmoving.

Cartman frowned. "Except Wendy liking me," he said. "...Even if I did like her, which I'm _not_ saying I do, she wouldn't go for me...No one ever does." He sighed.

"Because you're a pussy," The frog repeated. "You would rather sit back and watch her go right back to Stan because you're a pussy. You're too much of a pussy to even admit that you're a pussy."

"I AM NOT A PUSSY, GOD DAMMIT! JUST SHUT UP YOU STUPID FROG!" Cartman yelled angrily.

"Are you okay, hon?" Cartman's mom called to him from downstairs, having heard the shouts.

"Yes," Cartman called down. "Clyde Frog's just being a dick."

"Okay, sweety-kins. You just let mommy know if you need her." She called back.

Clyde Frog continued to stare at him mockingly. "Pussy." He concluded, rushing on before he could get a retort. "You like her," came the accusation. "You liked her in detention, and you liked her in the air vent. You liked her smile and you liked her hair. You even liked the way she bitched at you."

Cartman turned red. It was a mixture of anger and embarrassment. He hated being wrong, but he knew he was. Damn that frog for being so observant!

"...All right, all right! I like her! Okay? Are you happy now! I like that god-damn tree hugger! Is that what you wanted to hear, asshole!"

"So what are you going to do about it?" Clyde Frog asked calmly.

Cartman pondered this, then shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I can't just make her like me."

"You can try. Or are you too much of a pussy?"

Cartman glared at his green friend. "At least I'm not asexual!"

The toy stared back at him blankly.

Cartman grinned, knowing he had managed to hit a soft spot. "Okay then. Look, I can't do anything until I know what's going on with Stan. Once I know that, I'll make my move. Because I am not a pussy. Okay?"

Clyde Frog remained silent, not believing a word of it. Especially the pussy part.

"I'll show you." Cartman said, able to read his friend's skeptical mind. "Now, we have a big day blackmailing Kyle tomorrow. Let's get some rest."

Cartman shut off his light and grabbed the frog, snuggling with it as he laid down in his bed for the evening.

---

The next day arrived. Cartman stayed after school again, only this time he had a non-detention purpose. A bus full of smaller school children pulled up at the entrance to the building, releasing kids that were returning from a field trip. Cartman lied in wait until he spotted his prey: Ike Broflovski. When the time was right, the fat boy ran up to the younger Jew, scooped him up off his feet, and quickly stuffed him into a sack designed to hold many potatoes. Holding the sack firmly in his hands, Cartman ran around the school desperately in search of Kyle. Eric was sure the older Jew would be assigned to pick up his brother…

Kyle walked swiftly down an outside walkway through the school, scanning the last group of kids getting off the bus.

_No Ike. _

He felt his heart begin to pound loudly in his ears. His mother was going to MURDER him. Not only that, what if something bad happened to the little shit? He swallowed hard, deciding to check the school playground just in case. As he rounded the corner, somewhat frantically, he noticed Cartman, apparently in search of something, or someone.

"Hey, fat fuck!" He shouted across the distance. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Kyle!" Cartman said happily. "I'm here to get information. You're here to pick up your brother, if I'm not mistaken."

"I can't find him anywhere," Kyle admitted, a slight quiver of worry in his voice. "You seen him?"

"As a matter of fact, I have." Cartman grinned. "But in exchange for that information, I need some information from you. Tell me what's going on with Stan. Now."

The green-eyed boy froze, the very core existence of fear creeping up his spine. In a moment of panic he thought Cartman knew, but that was impossible. His eyebrows furrowed deeply.

"Where is Ike, you malicious bastard?"

"He's around. Where's Stan? Out with a girl perhaps?"

"It's none of your god damned business where Stan is and who he's with!" He echoed. "WHERE IS MY BROTHER!"

"HAH! So you admit he _is_ with someone!" Cartman pointed a finger at Kyle. "Who is it Kyle? I want names."

"I don't know where he is, CARTMAN!" He spat, smacking the accusing finger out of his face. "I haven't seen him all day!"

"Tell me who Stan's dating now." Cartman repeated, glancing at his watch. "You'd better hurry. Ike's gonna get sick hanging out in the cold like this."

"Where is he!"

"Who's Stan with?"

"You know what? Fuck this shit! I can find my brother without your help!" He turned away and began across the playground. "Ike! Ike, where are you?"

Cartman followed behind him. "It'll be a lot faster with my help. You know that. This is a big school, Kyle. Every second you aren't picking him up, God knows who might be. If you know what I mean."

Kyle's footsteps died, as well as his anger, but he didn't turn around to face his enemy. "God, Cartman, PLEASE, where is he?" His unseeing eyes were focused on a swing as it creaked back and forth in the breeze. What if someone _did _take Ike? Millions of kids were stolen every year, never to return again, or even turned up dead.

"He's in the area," Cartman assured him. "And he's safe for now...But I need that name Kyle. If I don't get that name, well, let's not even talk about what might happen then...One name for your brother's whereabouts...That's all I want...Now, I'm going to ask you one more time...Who is Stan dating?"

There was no way out. That was all there was to it. He could save himself or save his brother. His lips pursed together as he looked from the swings haunted rocking to the barely moving, metal merry-go-round. With a whimper of protest, his shoulders sagged in defeat. Still he did not turn around. He breathed the confession on a whisper that was carried away with the wind.

"Me."

Cartman blinked. He must've heard wrong.

"...Y...You? ...As in, like, ...YOU!"

Kyle squeezed his eyes closed, bracing himself for whatever would come next, and offered no further explanation.

"...Oh my god...Oh, god..." Cartman paused. "You and...Stan...Stan and...Aw, dude...That's...That's fucking HILARIOUS! HAHAHAHA!"

The anger started in the very depth of his soul and bubbled over in a matter of seconds. He spun on his heel, grabbing Cartman by the neck and cutting off his air supply.

"That's right, you fat, Jew-hating, hypocritical, asshole! _Me! _Me, me, me! There is no other girl! He's with me! Now give me back my brother!"

Somehow still laughing through his obstructed windpipe, a choking Cartman reached into his pants pocket and held out his hand, presenting Kyle with some bolt cutters.

He released the gloating boy with more force then needed, knocking him to the ground. "What the FUCK did you do to him?"

Cartman coughed and sputtered. "F-fucking Jew!" he coughed out. "He's hung up on the monkey bars inside a potato sack! Shit!"

"You bastard!" He exclaimed, stomping Cartman smack between his legs before hurrying off to rescue his baby brother.

Cartman grabbed himself, obviously in pain from that particular blow. He grimaced, then quietly groaned out. "It was worth it..."

---

Kyle did find Ike. He even managed to bring him home safely. He was now far more concerned with breaking the news to Stan. He had told the big secret, and God knows what the fat bastard would do with the knowledge. He had to tell Stan. There was no way around it. Better Kyle break the news to him first, and tell his side of things, before they got teased about it at school. With a sigh, Kyle sat down and reluctantly dialed Stan's number.

Stan staggered through his living room, heading upstairs for his room. Although he didn't really want to. Homework was a pain in the ass. He froze with one foot on the bottom step and his hand resting on the banister at the sound of the phone ringing. Thankful for a distraction, he rushed to the couch and grabbed the receiver.

"Hello?" He spoke into it, way too eagerly.

"Stan?" Kyle said, his voice already cracking with nerves. "...I...I have something to tell you." Kyle felt it was best to get right to it. Much like ripping off a band aid that you knew would tear some hair out. "...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...That fat piece of shit blackmailed me!"

"Whoa, dude, calm down," Stan soothed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Cartman...He knows..."

It turned out the world really could stop spinning, because it did. He opened his mouth, trying to get something out, anything, but all he managed was a strangled noise.

"I know...I'm sorry..." Kyle repeated sadly.

"You're _sorry?_" Stan hissed, then quickly glanced into the kitchen where his mother could be seen rolling dough. "Hold on." He rushed, stomping all the way up the stairs and slamming his door closed. "How the hell do you just let something like that slip, Kyle!"

"He had my brother!" Kyle said defensively, though still upset. "He hid him at school. I didn't know where he was...Cartman wouldn't tell me unless I told him who you were with."

"So why didn't you make something up!"

"He would've seen through that. He knows me too well...You actually think I wanted him to know! This sucks just as much for me as it does for you!"

"Damnit... DAMNIT!" Stan shouted. "You know what this means, don't you?"

Kyle frowned. "What?"

Stan sunk to his bed, squeezing the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. "It means..." He paused. "It means we can't see each other anymore. As friends or... more."

Kyle froze, his jaw dropping open. "...No...Stan, d-don't say that! I'm sorry!"

"I'm sorry, too." He murmured.

Tears began welling up in Kyle's eyes. "...No...Stan...No! Don't do this! ...We've been friends our whole lives."

"Don't...Don't cry. That's my job, remember?" He tried to lighten it with a pathetic joke even as his own tears choked him. He swallowed hard and continued. "I know we've been friends our whole lives. That's why we have to end it now. You know Cartman. He's going to make our lives hell. And if we don't stay away from each other, he won't stop until we're enemies."

Kyle sniffled. "B-but I couldn't think of you as my enemy. Ever. I don't care what Cartman thinks. Nothing he does could make me as miserable as never seeing you again."

"I can't believe that you, of all people, could underestimate Cartman like that. We have n-no choice." He blinked out stray tears. "Goodbye, Kyle." And with a flick of his wrist, he clicked off the phone.

Kyle sighed and hung up his end, feeling defeated. Tears rolled down, growing larger and more frequent in number. The Jew simply ran for the shelter of his room, needing to cry all this out for now, then who knows what else?

* * *

_Kyleisgod & BratChild3_


	4. Goodnight Wendy

**Chapter 4- Goodnight Wendy:**

Cartman strutted proudly through the school the next day. A huge, constant grin was present on his face. He knew what he needed to know, and it was better than even he had hoped. Now, to make the puppets dance. He strolled up to Wendy's locker before school.

She turned to face the intruder, hoping to find Stan and frowning when she saw Cartman in his place. "Why are you so happy?" She asked suspiciously.

"I know the truth." he said simply.

Her eyes brightened. "About Stan? What's going on with him? it isn't another girl, is it? I knew it wasn't, he would never do anything like that!"

Cartman smirked. "Well, not exactly. It's..." Cartman snickered. "I'm sorry, give me a second. I laugh just thinking about it...He's...He...HAHAHA!"

Wendy frowned in puzzlement. "It can't be THAT funny. Jesus."

Cartman wiped a tear from his eye, getting his giggles and snickers under control. "Okay, okay...I'll tell you. Oh man..." He took a deep breath. "You ready for this? ...Stan didn't dump you for another girl. Oh no...He dumped you...for a guy! Kyle!"

She paled considerably, and suddenly scoffed, all color returning. "Cartman, you asshole! That's not funny. Now be serious; what did you find out?"

"Dude I am serious! Kyle told me himself. And he wouldn't just make something like that up."

She felt her heart sink, realizing he was dead serious. She clutched her stomach, her hand shot up to her mouth by reflex, as if she would be sick if she didn't try to hold it in. "Oh my God." She whispered against her trembling hand.

"I know!" Cartman nodded in amazement of the situation. "I find it hilarious, but, y'know..." He shrugged.

Her eyes connected with his, wide in fear and shock. Stan couldn't be with Kyle. If it were true, if this were real, she would never win him back. Her eyes glassed with tears, and for once she didn't care if Cartman, or anyone else, saw.

"What kind of hell are we living in?" She gasped to herself.

Cartman blinked. "...Dude, Wendy it...it's not _that _bad."

She took a wobbly step backward. "I-It feels-" she started, hiccupping on a sob. "like my heart's been ripped out."

Cartman didn't know what to say. Obviously, he wasn't very good at comforting people. "Want me to beat up Kyle?" he asked.

She shook her head, hand still clamped over her mouth as more tears spilled down her cheek. "No," She croaked out. "But _I_ might." She broke away on a sob, not stopping until she reached the girls bathroom.

"Damn!" Cartman said under his breath. His big chance to be sweet and comforting, and he went and fucked it up. He was about to head for class, but overheard Clyde Frog's annoying "pussy" remark coming from his book bag again. Cartman waited in spite of the ringing school bell, standing firm outside the girl's room.

---

It was a good ten minutes before the door of the stall Wendy hid in opened with a protesting squeak. Her first reaction was to look straight ahead and into the mirror that held the hideous looking thing she was. He hair fell over her swollen, red eyes in a way that mocked that of a Goth. Her bottom lip protruded out in a pout that wouldn't go away no matter how hard she tried...She looked like a clown. A pathetic, red-eyed, gothic clown. She splashed her face with cool water and dried it fiercely on a rough paper towel. Swiping a few extra stray tears onto her pink sleeve, she opened the main door of the girls room, running smack into Cartman.

"Oomph!" She protested, and took a step back. "What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting for you," he replied simply. "You all right?"

She searched his eyes, looking for any trace of hidden mockery. She could find none.

"No," she rushed out on a breath. "No, I'm not okay. Why would I be okay? I just found out the love of my life dumped me for... a _guy_." She rubbed at her throbbing temples. Crying always gave her headaches. "We were supposed to get married someday. We were going to have a house with a white picket fence and kids and...a dog." She sniffed. "A fucking dog!" She screamed. "Where does that leave me now?"

She was clearly hurt. Cartman had two options here. Comfort wasn't his area, so it was either make her laugh or speak from his heart. He went for the heart approach first, since it appeared to be working. After all, she was talking to him without slinging insults his way.

"...Y'know, sometimes girls don't like me too...Okay, a lot of times they don't...And sometimes, I think I'm gonna end up alone and unmarried, and all that shit too...But then I remember what my mom says. She says I'm special, and that people should like me for who I am...In a way, this is kinda like an opportunity for you."

The tears formed again, but she didn't let them break free. She flung her arms around Cartman's neck and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

Cartman smiled a bit at this contact. Feeling much more comfortable, he wrapped his large arms around her, embracing her in a hug.

"You're special, Wendy." he said. "You're gonna find some guy way better than Stan."

She took a deep breath to instill more composure, thankful for his words, though on the inside a voice was telling her _"no one's better than Stan"._

"...You wanna have dinner tonight?" Cartman blurted out.

Her eyes flew open, all new tears coming to a halt. Did she...hear that right? She pulled away from him, blinking rapidly. "What?"

"I just...I-I don't want you to be alone tonight ... Besides, you said you might beat up Kyle. If there's one thing I love discussing over dinner, it's torturing that little Jew...S-so, what do you think?"

She released a breath and smiled through her tears. What the hell? She didn't have anything else to lose. "Okay."

Cartman blinked, a bit surprised she had actually agreed. Maybe she was on the rebound. Maybe she wasn't thinking straight. But who cares? She said yes!

"Okay!" He smiled. "I'll uh...I'll see you at seven...Er, shit, I gotta get to class dude. Feel better okay? Later!" He ran off as fast as he could go, his smile already widening.

---

The school day continued. As promised, Stan avoided Kyle. Kyle wasn't very happy about it, but respected Stan's wishes even though it was killing him inside. At lunch, Stan very cautiously approached Wendy. Perhaps some of those "rumors" could be squashed if they were seen hanging out again.

"...Er, hi..." he said weakly.

Her head snapped upward at the familiar voice. She paused to stare at him. "Stan," she concluded the obvious, her mouth full of peanut butter and jelly.

Stan nodded. "...Can, um...Can I sit down?"

"America the free." She reminded him, focusing her eyes on the tabletop. She didn't feel hungry anymore.

Stan slowly sat down next to his ex, hoping she wasn't going to kill him today.

"...I've um...I've been doing a lot of thinking lately," he began. "And I just...I'm sorry." He sighed.

She scowled, still refusing to look at him. He was _sorry? _Sorry for what? That she didn't have a dick? If she was going to get an apology, she wanted a specific one.

"Sorry for what?" she asked, her eyes seeking and finding her box of juice. She snatched it up, sipping at it angrily to try and keep calm.

"Well, everything." he said. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I dumped you...But I want you to know that I've made some decisions lately, and I really regret breaking up with you...If you'd have me, I want you back."

She gaped at him. How the hell could he say that and keep a straight face? "You want me back?" She echoed him in disbelief. "What about Kyle?"

Stan gazed down at the floor. He could lie about it and defuse the whole rumor right now, but getting back with Wendy would lend a lot more credibility to the idea that the whole Kyle thing was false, even though it wasn't. Besides, Wendy was a good person. Stan couldn't really lie to her even if he wanted to.

"...Y...You heard about that, huh? ...Fuck!"

"Yeah, I heard about that." She confirmed bitterly. "You dumped me for a _boy? _Jesus Christ, Stan!"

"I know, I know...But you'll be happy to know that all that's over with now. I'm not even hanging out with Kyle at all anymore...Maybe I was just...going through a phase or something. We're supposed to do that kinda thing."

"You did it because you're suppose to." She hissed at him. "Very mature. Could he actually kiss you without you barfing on him? Or am I just special?"

"Wendy, please. I don't know why I did it. I just know that I regret it and I wanna fix it...I want you..."

"And I want you," She admitted. "But damnit, Stan, I will never be able to trust you again. I don't want a relationship that consists of my wondering if my boyfriend is thinking about Kyle whenever we kiss!"

Stan remained silent for a moment, not really having much of a defense for that one. "...I'm human," he said simply. "I made a mistake...I fucked up, a-and I'm sorry for that...Like I said though, I don't even hang out with Kyle now. That's over and done with, and it's never gonna be that way again." He frowned ever so slightly. Whether it was because he was sorry, or because he couldn't go back to Kyle, he wasn't sure.

Wendy pressed her hands to her eyes and moaned quietly. It would be so easy to cave into those wide-blue eyes. So easy. But, she never liked to take the easy way out. She had to face facts that... it was over. "I can't." She announced, standing from the table and sweeping a lock of hair behind her ear. "You broke my heart too many times. Besides, I have a date with Cartman tonight."

Stan blinked. He must've heard her wrong. "Whoa, whoa, back up...A date? Like, a...date date? ...With CARTMAN!?"

"That's right." She answered calmly. She'd be damned if she let him know she was every bit as freaked out about it as he was.

Stanley frowned. "...But...But I love you, Wendy. Cartman...Cartman doesn't even like you for Christ's sake!"

She snorted sarcastically. "How would you know? Has he told you that?"

"He calls you a ho!"

"Maybe he likes ho's!" She snapped back. She took a breath and shook her head. "There's nothing you can say that will change my mind. One minute you're hot, the next you're cold. Maybe it's best if you're single for a while, because you're certainly a lost cause in a relationship." She swung her legs over the bench and started for the exit.

Stan pouted, saying nothing in response. He had blown it. At least for now.

---

Later that evening a nervous Cartman is seen adjusting his tie in the mirror. He had gotten dressed up for this very special event, and why not? It's not every day Eric Cartman has Wendy Testaburger over for dinner. Hearing a knock at the door, Eric gulped nervously and headed to greet his date for the evening.

Outside the door, Wendy huffed and ran her fingers once through her hair. She hadn't thought the idea was that bad before. Now that it was actually about to happen, she only wanted it to be over with. Nothing good could come of it. In fact, she would bet that she would end up walking away pissed off before an hour was up. Much to her surprise, and oddly enough, pleasure, she literally gasped when he opened the door. He looked...good!

"Sup, ho?" Cartman asked with a smile. He might have been able to dress up and feel emotion for a girl, but he was still Eric Cartman. "C'mon in," he offered.

She narrowed her eyes and accept the invitation in, though she didn't offer a greeting in return, insulting or otherwise.

Cartman shut the door and escorted his date to the dinner table. "The food's almost ready" he informed her.

_What the hell am I doing here? _She thought exasperatedly as she pulled out a chair and fell ungraciously into it. "What are we having?" She asked, trying to be polite and not let her eagerness to leave show.

"Italian food. It was all I knew how to make."

She nodded, admitting to herself that at least the night wasn't going to be a total loss. "Italian's my favorite."

Cartman grinned. He hadn't planned on it being Wendy's favorite, but he did know Italian food was considered quite romantic. A ding alerted him that the food was ready. He headed for the kitchen and promptly returned with the food. Two very romantic plates of...pizza.

"Very creative." The compliment was meant as sarcasm, although she couldn't help but grin at him.

"I thought so." He smiled back and put a plate down in front of her before sitting across from the girl at the table.

"...You're smiling," he observed. "Does that mean you're feeling better?"

Her smile immediately twisted into a frown. No, she wasn't feeling better at all. In fact, she now regret having turned Stan down earlier. And although she would never tell Cartman she was planning on calling him after she got back home, she thought nothing of telling him about earlier. She picked at the sleeve of her shirt, looking downward as she spoke. "Not really." She hesitated. "Stan tried to get me back today."

"Oh." Cartman said, frowning himself now as he picked at his food. "...That's not fair. He's a fag."

The words were too true. It made her heart clench. "Don't. Just _don't_."

Cartman hesitated to speak again. He couldn't piss her off and blow this date, but at the same time, he couldn't let her just go back to Stan. He swallowed a bite of food and chose his next words carefully.

"I'm just saying it's unfair. I mean, fags are fags. You can't be a fag and then still try to horde all the hot girls for yourself too! That screws over all the perfectly good straights. It's bullshit dude."

"Don't call him that!" She commanded. "Just because he had a thing for Kyle doesn't make him gay." She paused, more angry with herself for defending Stan. He was the one who cheated on her. He was the one who left her. Not Cartman...Then again... "And you're one to talk about 'hording all the girls'."

"What?" Cartman paused, a piece of pizza inches from going into his mouth.

"Cookie." She stated simply. "Does she know I'm over here right now?"

Cartman scratched his head. "Coo...kie...?" He had long since forgotten about that lie. Hell, that wasn't even the only lie he had told that day. "I don't know what you...OH! Cookie! Er, we broke up." he stated quickly, his memory coming back to him in mid-sentence.

"You broke up," she repeated with evident skepticism. "When?"

Cartman chewed his food very slowly, trying to come up with a good cover.

"Like last week, I think." he said. "I don't remember. Who cares? The point is it's over."

Wendy still wasn't convinced, and noticed for the first time she hadn't even touched her dinner. She took a bite, immediately falling in love with it. "You got over that quickly." She observed, watching his reaction carefully.

Cartman shrugged. She was too smart for him, but he was never one to panic. If he believed the lie, she would have to eventually.

"Well, it's like I was saying to you before. Mah mom says I'm special, and people should like me for who I am. That bitch didn't, so I was all like _'later,' _You know?"

She raised her eyebrows in agreement. Pretty smart thinking on his behalf, she wished she could feel that way about Stan.

"And Cookie was okay with this?"

He grinned. "Oh, I don't know about that. I mean, I'm quite a man."

"Pfffft." She rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. "You _are_ a good pizza maker." She admitted, her mouth full of the evidence.

He blushed a bit, happy she was back to complimenting him. "Thanks." He went back to eating as well, searching his brain for a new, safe topic of conversation.

"...Clyde Frog says hi."

Her chewing halted for a moment. "I'm not going to talk to it, Cartman. I stopped that when I was seven."

"I didn't ask you to talk to him." he responded calmly. "Besides, he's not even here tonight."

"Right. You make him leave so we could have the house to ourselves?" She teased.

Cartman smirked. "Of course not. Clyde Frog had his own date tonight...I only made mom leave so we could be alone."

It was stupid to ask, she knew, but still couldn't stop herself. "What could a stuffed doll possibly be dating, Malibu Barbie?"

"He didn't tell me her name." Cartman responded, completely serious in tone.

She hid her mouth against her fist, trying hard to hide her quiet laughter. How could a bastard be so adorable? It was something she would never be able to answer, not if her life depended on it. After brushing back a stray piece of hair, she muffled her amusement with her final bite of food.

Cartman smiled and ate, enjoying the currently stable date. The sound of a door opening and shutting in the other room was heard.

"Clyde Frog must be home."

Bewilderment took over Wendy's smile. "Clyde Frog?" she repeated.

"I told you, he had a date." Cartman took a bite of pizza again. "There he is. Hey Clyde Frog."

"Hey" a voice from behind Wendy called.

She whirled around at the sound, eyes landing on none other than the stuffed animal. "What the hell...?" She breathed.

Sure enough, a tuxedo-wearing Clyde Frog was now lying on the floor behind Wendy's chair. He said nothing else, of course, since stuffed animals can't talk.

"We're still having dinner Clyde Frog. So if you don't mind..." Cartman said.

Wendy blinked, looked to Cartman, who was extremely serious about the entire situation, to Clyde Frog, and down at her plate. What the hell did he slip in her food?

The sound of feet going up steps was heard. "Later!" Cartman called out. Sure enough, the stupid puppet was now gone.

"You want some water or something?" he asked.

Her eyes darted between his calm expression and the staircase. Yeah, she lost it. Completely. "Water-" She croaked, then swallowed before continuing. "Would be nice."

"Kewl." Cartman headed for the kitchen to fetch his lady her drink. Unfortunately, he didn't have a whole lot to talk about. He had spent most of his life fighting with Wendy, and he certainly didn't want to bring up a sore subject. Still, he liked her. Surely he could find some way to express that.

Wendy waited until he turned his back to quietly rise from the chair and tiptoe away. There was no way a _doll_ could just up and head upstairs without someone carrying it, and she wanted to know exactly who was teamed with Cartman in his little game to make her feel like a complete lunatic. With care, she hurried up the stairs, choosing the first door on the right. Luck was on her side. It was obviously Cartman's room, and there, Clyde Frog resided on the bed. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she checked under the bed, and then opened the closet, checking for any hidden assholes plotting more tricks.

"Don't take anything." the frog called out from his spot on Cartman's dresser, his mouth unmoving. "He'll know if you took stuff. He's protective of his shit."

She jumped at the sound, staring the frog down from her spot near the closet. "Did you...say something?"

"I said not to take Eric's stuff. He hates that." The frog wasn't moving one bit, but obviously someone was speaking. It didn't make sense, but then, a lot of things in South Park didn't.

Stunned and completely amazed, she crept toward the doll, pausing before poking its stomach.

Amazing.

"Why are you up here anyway?" the frog apparently asked her. "You guys gonna...you know...heh-heh."

She gasped loudly. "That's offensive!" She screamed, then blushed furiously as she glanced around the room and took sight of his bed. It certainly was a personal place for her to be barging into.

"He really likes you," the frog said, his fake body totally motionless.

Her anger and embarrassment vanished at once, leaving behind nothing but curiosity, and maybe a little hopefulness. "What does he say about me?" She asked, completely disregarding her sanity, for now.

"He denies it most of the time, but I can tell. He thinks you're pretty and smart. He likes some of your personality. But _don't _tell him I told you. He doesn't have the balls to say it himself, probably, but someone has to get you together god dammit."

"Together?" She squeaked. "Me and...and Cartman?" She squeezed her eyes closed, laughing almost hysterically at the suggestion. For some reason there was a bitter twinge in her stomach.

"...You don't want him?" the frog asked, concern in his voice. "Oh boy..."

Her laughter ceased. "I didn't say that. I mean, I... damnit. I didn't mean that either." She grumbled. "You make it sound like something terrible. Even if he does like me, he would get over it, I'm sure. He would just call me a hippie and flip me off."

"Maybe. But he shouldn't have to get over you. You guys have something nice going. And besides, even if he gets defensive and flips you off, he's still a person. He'd be hurt."

The girl shook her head. "He wasn't very hurt about Cookie. And God knows how long they were going out."

"Cookie? You mean you haven't figured that out yet? Cookie was you. Duh."

"Me?" She asked. "But how? I was never his girlfriend."

"There was no Cookie. She was a lie, and everything about her was based on you. The way she looked. Her personality. Think about it. It was all you because you're the one he wanted."

Her breath was dead as she turned this information around in her head. Dark hair, blue eyes, a dimple when she smiles... "Oh, God-" She whispered, backing away from the frog and toward the door, wanting to leave but too stunned to turn away from the bearer of information.

"Look, all I know is I'm sick of him being a pussy about this. Get together if you want, or don't if you aren't interested. Either way, Eric needs to move on with his life. Personally, I think he'd make a great catch."

She absorbed the words, but offered no response as she turned and walked leisurely out of the room and down the stairs.

Cartman smiled and approached the girl as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "There you are! ...I thought you left..."

It took her a moment to find her voice. He did in fact look genuinely happy to see her. "The water?" She asked, needing it now more than ever.

He held out a filled glass for her. "You all right? Where'd you go?"

"Just... looking for the bathroom." She lied before downing the entire glass. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, a very un-lady like action she would normally never do, and held the empty glass out to him. "Thank you."

"No problem." Cartman took the glass back. "...I'm just glad you didn't run off."

Honestly, she was seriously considering running, but somehow managed to keep herself planted. "Why do you think I would do something like that?"

"I'm not stupid. I've spent years ripping on you. Going to dinner with me probably isn't high on your list of priorities."

"I would rather chew off my right arm." She admitted. "At least, that's what I used to think."

"Tell me about it." He grinned. "I never thought I'd be asking the hippie to have pizza."

"Are you sorry you did?"

"No...Are you sorry you came?"

She took a considerable amount of time to think it over before deciding. "Yes, because I hated you before tonight."

Cartman frowned upon hearing the "yes," but perked up as he listened to the rest of her words. "You hated me, before?" His smile widened. "So how're you gonna feel about me after tonight?"

"Confused." She admitted, looking thoughtful. "Unless-" She broke off her words, unsure if she should finish.

"...Unless what?" Cartman asked, genuinely curious.

She smiled at him then, for some reason liking it when he wasn't sure about something. "Unless I test myself." That said, she didn't hesitate to grab the front of his shirt and haul him against her, finishing her behavior by locking lips with his.

Once the initial shock of Wendy's aggressive behavior wore off, Cartman realized what was going on. She was here, and she was kissing him of her own free will. It was wonderful. It was what he wanted, whether he'd ever admit it himself or not. Seizing this golden opportunity, he wrapped his big hands around Wendy's waist, pressing his lips back against hers.

She broke off the kiss with a loud, satisfactory SMACK sound, her breath now ragged and heavy. "Whoa," she panted out accidentally. She pried herself out of his embrace, slightly embarrassed at her behavior. "Now, I-I think I should... should go."

Cartman blushed, his breath also gone. "If...I-if you want..." He released her from his grip, confident in knowing how she probably felt about him now. "...You've been talking to Clyde Frog, haven't you?"

"Maybe." She answered, unable to unlock her eyes from his long enough to even blink. "He's not so bad, after all."

Cartman smirked. "I told you so." He continued staring at the girl as well, not really wanting to let her go, but satisfied with the date as it stood at the moment. "...By the way, I give you a C."

"A _'C'_?" She repeated, her eyebrows suddenly furrowing. "A '_C' _on what?"

"On the 'test' of course. But if you'd like to earn an A..." Cartman winked playfully at her, not needing to finish his sentence.

She accepted the challenge by flinging herself at him, knocking him to the ground in the process and straddling his lap. Before he could recover from his second round of shock, she kissed him again, this time delaying it long and slow before pulling away.

"So what's that get me?"

Cartman's jaw dropped. "...If it means we can do that more often, an F." He laughed slightly, the girl still on top of him. As he continued to stare up at her, he couldn't help but become aroused.

She laughed with him and stood, oblivious to just how much it had effected him. "I'd better go. I still need to call Stan." She held her hand out to him as a help up offer.

He took her hand and returned to his feet, the smile more or less stuck on his face now. "The fag doesn't know what he's missing," Cartman remarked before giving Wendy's hand a small kiss. It wasn't nearly as aggressive, but he was the man here and he wanted to start some show of affection here. "Goodnight Wendy."

"Goodnight." She returned before quietly clicking the door closed behind her.

Eric stood at the door a moment, letting everything sink in. After a long contemplation, he ran up to his room and gave Clyde Frog a hug. "Thank you...Thank you so much...Mah god..."

* * *

_KyleisGod & BratChild3_


	5. Jacket Sleeves

**Authors Note: **Sorry this one took so long to come out. Heh...

* * *

**Chapter 5- Jacket Sleeves.**

The next day came. During lunch period, Kyle was once again seated away from Stan. But he wasn't alone. He was sitting with Kenny.

"You gonna eat that?" Kenny asked, pointing at Kyle's untouched tray of food.

Kyle shrugged, picking at his food. "Take what you want."

He needed no second invitation. When you were poor, you took whatever food you could get whenever you could get it. He pulled the tray in front of him and immediately went to work on the soggy cafeteria pizza.

"What's wrong with you, anyway?" He asked around his full mouth.

"Nothing really," Kyle said. "I'm just...not talking to Stan anymore. I'll get over it."

Kenny's merry chewing came to a dead standstill. He eyed his friend carefully, almost suspiciously before taking two more slow chews. "You're a stupid fuck if you actually believe that. You'll never get over it." He stated simply. "And why aren't you talking?"

Kyle sighed, knowing his blunt friend was right. "Partially because Stan's a selfish jerk, and partially because of Cartman."

Kenny took a swig of milk, wiping the droplets off his upper lip with his orange sleeve. "We're all selfish jerks sometimes, Kyle. Even you."

"Maybe. But he didn't have to kill our friendship just because Cartman knew we were...uh..."

Kenny's eyebrows arched with obvious interest. "Do I smell sex?"

Kyle blushed, his eyes and voice lowering. "...We never got that far, but yes...And if you tell anyone I'll kill you!"

"Like that's really anything new." Kenny's voice dripped with sarcasm. "How long has this been going on?"

"Not long. Couple months, maybe...But now it's over. It's all over. Cartman found out, and Stan decided to drop me completely because he was worried fat ass would go around telling people and making our lives miserable. He was a selfish prick. And what's worse, Cartman hasn't even done anything as far as I know."

Kenny began snickering loudly beneath his parka and tried unsuccessfully to cut it short by downing the rest of his milk.

Kyle just glared at his friend. "Anyway, that's that."

"You take things too personally all the time. You need to learn to just... chill out." Kenny suggested. "Maybe you're the one who's being selfish."

_"What!"_ Kyle was genuinely offended by the remark. "How the hell do you figure that? The only thing I did was tell Cartman because he kidnapped my brother! Then I got ditched. How the fuck am I the bad guy?"

Kenny placed a comforting hand on his frustrated company. "Your heart is in the right place, Kyle. But you _are_ the selfish one here. Stan cares about you more than he cares about anyone else in the world. He's proven himself time and time again, all throughout your friendship. He would give anything for you, even his own life. If he ditched you, it was only because he was thinking of _you_." He sounded to be getting a little irritated about it. "And here you are, calling him a dick because he's doing what he thinks is best for you instead of giving you what you want? Bullshit, dude."

Kyle paused, a frown slowly forming on his face. "...I guess I never thought about it like that...This can't be easy on him...And if Cartman had said anything, it would've definitely been hell for both of us..." He sighed. "Okay, so you're right for once. What am I supposed to do about it?"

"For _once? _I'm touched." He replied bitterly. "This is what it comes down to; what's more important to you? Your pride or Stan?"

He sighed. "Stan, of course...Fine, I'll talk to him. And I won't take no for an answer."

"Aggression. It's a hot look for you." The blonde smiled invisibly before letting it die away again. "I could be wrong you know. But if I know Stan, I know it's only for you. The only thing you can do is tell him that you don't give a fuck what Cartman does. If he won't accept it, then you have to accept that."

Kyle nodded. "That's pretty much what I did, but I'll make it clear...We've both had some time to think this over, and I still feel that way, so yeah...Thanks Kenny."

---

Some time passed in the day. As the last bell rang, signaling the release of the students from the oppressive restrictions of public school, Eric Cartman made his way toward the detention room. He made an uncharacteristic quick stop however at a classroom along the way, waiting for Wendy to come out.

The girl stayed a good five minutes after the last bell, arguing determinedly with the teacher about the new shipment of frogs brought in for the science lab. She only decided to leave when the teacher became unresponsive to anything she had to say. She growled irately at being ignored and pushed her way out the door.

Calmness engulfed her when she noticed Cartman. She smiled softly, and greeted him with a shy, "Hi... Cartman."

"Hey" Eric smirked back arrogantly. "Great news, you've got detention today."

"What?" She asked blankly, her smile faltering.

"Yep. Apparently you scratched 'Wendy was here' on the janitor's car."

She blinked stupidly before realization dawned. Stormy blue eyes narrowed viciously. "You deceitful bastard..."

Cartman smirked. "I just thought it'd be nice having detention together again."

A smile broke across her face. "I hate you." She promised in a singsong voice and began her descent down the school corridor toward detention.

Cartman followed behind her quickly, excited about the new possibilities in detention after the end to their date the other night. As the fat boy ran into the detention room however, his smile faded immediately. For once, they weren't the only ones dumb enough to get detention after school. Someone was there. Worse yet, it was Kyle.

The Jewish youth looked up from his book as he heard the couple enter the room. Wendy and Cartman together? Oh God! He stood from his chair, ready to run or fight or whatever else might have been necessary to survive detention. Seeing those two together in a small room with him was his own personal apocalypse. He stood, staring at them with his mouth agape.

Wendy shrunk back at the sight of the third party, feeling suddenly unworthy. Kyle always made her feel that way, where Stan was concerned. This was the person who took her boyfriend away, for goodness sake! She noticed herself magnetizing close to Cartman's side before biting her lip defensively. She couldn't let this bring her down. She _had_ to be the civil one here.

"Kyle," She greeted coolly, and threw herself into her seat, which was becoming more permanent.

"Hi," Kyle responded meekly.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Jew?" Cartman glared.

Kyle turned his attention to the fat boy, glaring back. "I'm here thanks to you, as a matter of fact! You got my brother sick keeping him in the cold in that potato bag! I was up all night taking care of him and I fell asleep in class."

"Wait," Wendy cut in. "You put him in a _potato bag_ in the COLD?" She asked. "Cartman! That wasn't our deal!"

"First of all, it was a potato sack," Cartman said defensively. "And it was the only way he'd tell me. If he had broken sooner, maybe Ike wouldn't be sick. So in a way, this is your fault, Kahl."

"Bullshit!" Kyle shot back. "And what 'deal' is she talking about? What the hell's going on?"

Wendy looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers guiltily. "We... I... just wanted to know if Stan was with anyone else. Cartman said that you would know. I... I didn't know... I wasn't trying to..." She broke off her sentence with a miserable sigh, for once unable to speak.

Kyle blinked in confusion. He looked to Wendy, back to Cartman, then back and forth a few times. This certainly answered the question of why Eric was so curious about Stan's love life, but it left a much more important question unanswered.

"...Okay...But why the hell would he help you?"

She looked to Cartman, swallowing back guilt for the moment. "Why the hell would you help me?" She cued him to answer the question.

"I have my reasons," Cartman said mysteriously. "But that's not what you need to worry about. The important thing is that I'm not doing anything with the information I have. Neither of us could've known just how big the little secret was. And obviously no one meant for your stupid brother to get sick. He was merely a pawn in the game of life."

"Fuck you fat ass! Something's going on here, and I know it!"

"It's not that big a deal, Kyle. Jesus." Wendy huffed, feeling his irritation begin to spill over onto herself.

"Fine, so now you both know. Great," Kyle said sarcastically. "It doesn't matter anyway. We're not even talking anymore, thanks to you!" He pointed a finger at Cartman.

"…Y-you're not?" Cartman asked, sounding concerned.

"No!"

"Oh… Well dude I didn't mean for that to happen!"

Wendy rubbed her knuckles together anxiously. If they weren't talking anymore, then maybe she still had a chance with Stan. She felt a smile start to lighten her heart, but it dropped again when she looked over at Cartman. In all seriousness, she didn't even want Stan anymore. She looked back to Kyle and frowned. He really didn't look too good, she had to admit.

"We're not going to tell anyone. We promise." She glanced at Eric. "Right?" She demanded.

Cartman sighed. "I guess so."

"…Why not?" Kyle asked curiously, his eyebrows raised.

Cartman glared at his friend. "Do you want an explanation, or do you wanna go pack fudge in peace?"

"Whatever… Thanks, I guess." Kyle sat back down in his chair.

"… You really don't even talk to Stan anymore?" Cartman asked with concern still in his voice. "Just because of me?"

"Yes." Kyle glared hatefully at his friend.

"…Well, y-you know what I think, Kahl? I think you should go tell Stan we're not gonna say anything. Go tell him, and see if it makes a difference."

"… First you wanted to know who Stan was dating. Now you suddenly care if we're together. Stop fucking with my head, Cartman! What's going on!"

"Nothing!" he barked back. "Right Wendy?"

She broke her gaze away from him long enough to glance at Kyle.

'Say, right.' She coached herself, but couldn't bring herself to do it. Eric would turn her into a scheming, liar quicker than she could blink if she let him.

Kyle turned to Wendy for confirmation, thinking she had to be an impartial observer here. "Wendy, what's going on?" he asked.

"Detention." She answered, completely sidestepping the conversation. She knew how to play dumb ass, too, if the situation called for it.

Cartman had no choice. He had to throw Kyle off the trail. Kyle and Stan together meant zero competition for Wendy's heart, so logically it was in Eric's best interests to get the Jew out of that room ASAP and over to Stanley's place. And of course, being alone with Wendy would only make Kyle's absence all the sweeter. Cartman spoke his next few words hoping Wendy was only playing dumb and would pick up on his idea.

"Look Kyle, I still say you should go tell Stan we're gonna be cool about this. I really think it'll help your relationship. And I think the dirty ho will agree with me on this."

She glared at him for the 'dirty ho' remark, but picked up on the plan nonetheless. "Cartman's right, you know." She suggested to Kyle. "You know Stan, he's a good listener. I know he will at least consider what you have to say. And he may not trust that Cartman won't say anything, considering he's a lying, inconsiderate, deceiving, rat bastard, but if you tell him that I know your secret and that _I_ promise we won't say anything, he might be okay with it. I _think_ he trusts me. And if that doesn't work, just tell him that I know one of Cartman's dirty little secrets, and if he says anything, I'll say _everything_."

Cartman glared at the girl. "God damn you hippie," he said, giving a small wink in Wendy's direction.

Kyle grinned. "I figured that's why he was helping you… Okay then, I guess maybe I _should _go talk to Stan."

"Yes you should, right now!" Cartman said eagerly. "Uh… Because the only thing worse than detention with a ho is detention with a ho and a Jew!" He corrected himself.

"Don't listen to him, Kyle," She insisted. "He's just insulting us to cover up for his own insecurities. And trust me, there's plenty of them." She forced herself to keep from looking at Cartman again. Kyle wasn't an idiot, after all. "But you should go talk to Stan right now. There's no use in torturing yourselves any longer. We'll cover for you."

Kyle nodded. "Thanks Wendy...You know, you're pretty cool. Later fat ass," he said casually before creeping his way toward the door and running down the hallway, leaving the detention room to the usual two members.

Wendy smiled after him, feeling better than she had in days. Weeks even. "I can see why Stan loves him so much." She commented.

"Because he's such a little bitch?"

"No," She corrected darkly. "Because he has a big heart. He's forgiving and he's trusting. Plus, he has a cute ass."

Cartman clutched his stomach. "Ugh. Please, I just ate a couple hours ago."

"Jealous?" She questioned, resting her cheek against her palm and leaning toward him.

"Psh! Not of Kyle's ass. It's reserved for sailors in hell."

"That's sexist."

"No it isn't. Kyle's a fag, not a woman."

She snorted a laugh and closed her eyes. "That was really considerate of you to promise not to tell anyone. I'm impressed."

Sure he had sinister motives for promising, but why spoil a good impression? Cartman simply smiled and approached Wendy, taking her hand off her own cheek and into his palm.

"So...It's just us now..."

Her heart kicked up several beats, and the touch made her feel lightheaded. "It is what you wanted." She pointed out, not even bothering to voice it as a question.

Cartman smiled at the girl. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't exactly romantic. His detention date idea was proof of that, though at least he was trying. He wasn't exactly smooth either. He wanted this girl though, and had to express it. Much like with his suggestion to have dinner together, he simply blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Wanna go in the closet?"

She raised an eyebrow. "And escape through the air shaft?" She teased, hoping that wasn't it.

"Nope."

A smile spread across her face when she recognized the spark in his eyes. The same as it was the night she kissed him. It made her almost eager to feel the fireworks again, but opted for a cool approach, not wanting the "ho" remarks to surface again.

"I'll go in the closet with you, if you promise to make it worth the effort."

Cartman smirked. "Trust me," he assured her, "it'll be worth it." He released Wendy's hand and headed into the closet himself. He stuck out his arm and invited her to join him inside with the 'come here' finger motion.

She approached the entrance a bit hesitantly, pausing to whisper an "Oh God, thank you," to her extremely generous creator before letting the darkness of the closet swallow her up.

Eric sighed contently and approached the girl. He wrapped his large arms around her, his hands resting on the small of her back, and brought his face close to hers for what would only be their third, but likely best to date, kiss.

There wouldn't be any barf this time, she reminded herself. And strangely enough it made her enthusiasm shoot up and out. Screw waiting for him to initiate the kiss, she wanted it NOW. She snaked her arms around his neck and let her lips melt against his.

Cartman released a small muffled moan as their lips locked together. He pressed his lips eagerly back against hers, wanting this moment just as much as she did. Using his hands because their mouths were obviously busy, Cartman moved himself and Wendy back to the far wall of the closet and away from the door. He was the man, after all. He had to have some level of control here.

She allowed herself to be manipulated. The take-charge attitude was completely new to her, for obvious reasons. She brushed her tongue against his lower lip and ran her fingers up through his hair, encouraging his behavior.

Cartman pinned her against the wall, his body pressing into hers as the kiss deepened. Feeling Wendy's tongue against his lips, Cartman opened his mouth and stuck out his own tongue, taking the kiss to another level.

She accepted it willingly, using her own experience to respond by thrusting her tongue against his in a slow deep rhythm. A smile curved her lips slightly as her hands smoothed their way down. There wasn't anything wrong with being a little playful. This in mind, she gave his bottom a small pinch.

Cartman gasped. He still wasn't used to being bitched like this, let alone touched at all, by a woman. Wanting to maintain his manhood, Eric moved his left hand down to Wendy's bottom, giving her cheek a squeeze with his palm. As he continued to french her, he felt himself becoming aroused.

Wendy broke the kiss, though keeping a tight hold on her pleasure toy. Her senses were humming wildly, but through breaths was able to ask, "Is that...what I... think it is?"

A panting Cartman responded; his cheeks flushed with excitement and embarrassment, his hand still planted on Wendy's ass, happy she wasn't protesting this.

"H-huh? ...Oh! Mah boner? Heh, yeah..."

She glowered immediately, wishing to God she could control her breathing. She shoved him away from her and straightened her clothes. "So _this _is why you wanted me to come in here. I am _not _a ho, Cartman, no matter what you think!"

"What? Hey, it's not like I can help it!"

"If you want a hooker, there's plenty down town." She pushed passed him and out of the closet, squinting at the brightness as she settled back into her chair.

"Aye!" Cartman followed her out of the closet, his erect member unfortunately still visible. "First of all, I never said you were a whore. If anything you should feel complimented."

"How is that a compliment?" She demanded. She gazed up at him, noticed his pants and quickly covered her eyes. "Jesus!"

"Er..." Cartman attempted placing a hand over his obvious problem. "Well it obviously means I like you. You should only get pissed off if I'm _not_ getting hard. Jesus what are you, a dyke?"

Wendy's hands fell away from her face with a gasp of outrage. "No, I'm not a... dyke." she corrected, finally able to meet his gaze. "It never happened to Stan, because he respected me."

"It never happened to Stan because he likes guys! Just cuz I'm hard for you doesn't mean I don't respect you. C'mon, you can't...leave me hanging here."

"Oh my God," her eyes widened. "Do you think he gets hard when he kisses Kyle?" She asked, completely disregarding his obvious agony.

"...What?! I-I don't know! Who cares?"

"You don't have to be such a dick about it." She hissed.

"Yes I do, because thinking of Kyle is gonna kill the mood! ...Bleh..."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do!" She pointed out, deciding against telling him she had been every bit as "into it" as he was. She wasn't a ho, goddammit!

Cartman glared at her, his erection already fading. "What would you like me to do, Wendy? Just tell my penis to stop getting hard?"

"I don't know. Does that work?" She asked angrily.

"Look, you're just gonna have to get used to this, all right? I'm a man. I get hard. You're a woman. You get...however women get. It's nature. You like nature, hippie."

"Hippie?" She repeated. "We're back to that!"

"Well you _are_ still a hippie. I've just learned to accept it."

She stood abruptly and grabbed her book bag. "Screw detention." She spat, and stormed out the door.

"God dammit" Cartman muttered to himself. He fidgeted a moment, wondering exactly how he was going to handle detention by himself again, especially with his particular problem down below. He frowned for a moment, thinking the next hour would be hell. Until he remembered that the closet had jackets in it...Jackets with sleeves...He grinned and ran back inside the dark room as fast as he could.

* * *

_KyleisGod & BratChild3_


	6. Romeo & Juliet

**Authors Note: **Thankies for reviews... though I wish you lurkers would too... I see you in my stats. :P

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**Chapter 6- Romeo & Juliet**

As Cartman entertained himself in detention, Wendy stormed angrily down the hallway. Luckily she wasn't caught blatantly breaking the rules, even when she walked right past the principal's office door. This was because, ironically, Kyle had been busted first skipping out on his punishment. As Wendy headed to the outside world, she could clearly hear Kyle begging the authority figure not to call his mother. Obviously this would delay his trip to Stan's house, which of course got Wendy's mind focused on her ex.

Stan may have barfed on her, but he loved her. That much she knew. And he respected her, unlike someone else they all knew and hated. Stan was someone reliable. He was someone she could trust, and she was stupid to think she wanted Cartman over perfection. After all, he _did _say Kyle was only a phase. He _did _say he wanted _her_, didn't he? She made it to his house in record time, refusing to lose him to Kyle again. With a loud and eager pound on the door, she waited impatiently for an answer.

Stan stood quickly from his living room couch and approached the noisy front door. Loud banging was usually never a good sign, but no one could ignore it. It was like answering a ringing phone at three in the morning. You knew the news wouldn't be good, but you couldn't resist. Stan slowly answered the door, jumping back a bit when he saw his ex face to face again. "Hi."

"Are your parents home?" She asked immediately, not even offering a greeting in return.

Stan blinked, but shook his head. "They're at work...Wait, y-you're not gonna kill me are you?"

Ignoring the offending question, she pushed him into the house and slammed the door closed with her foot. Before he could ask another stupid question, she pulled him close and kissed him almost violently.

Stan went wide-eyed. Obviously he was surprised by this, but he certainly wasn't rejecting it. As he loosened up, realizing she obviously _wasn't _planning on hurting him, a smile came across Stan's lips. He wrapped his arms around Wendy, pulling her into a small hug as she continued to kiss him, not seeming to want to let up. Finally Stanley pulled away, needing to regain his breath and composure, and possibly vomit.

Wendy's breathing was heavy when she pulled away, much like when she kissed Eric. But for some reason a deep sense of disappointment washed over her. She only hoped it was because he broke the kiss. Keeping her arms secure on his shoulders, she pulled back slightly to inspect his front side. With a frown, she pulled up his shirt, making the fly of his pants visible for further inspection.

Stan blinked, watching her hands as they manipulated his clothes. "Er...Wendy, what're you doing?"

She bit her lip thoughtfully, trying to remember what exactly had set Cartman off. With a smile, she slipped her arms back around him and gave his bottom a pinch.

Stan giggled from Wendy's unusual behavior. He put his arms back around her and pulled her close.

"So I'm guessing this means we're back together?" He smirked.

She hugged him tightly, too absorbed in her own experiment to answer his questions. No, didn't feel anything poking her. "Why don't you get an erection when we make out?" She blurted.

Stan blushed. "...Huh?" He backed away from the girl a bit. "Why don't I...get a...Babe, you're acting really weird..."

She allowed him to step back, though her fingers refused to uncurl from their grasp on the material of his shirt. "Did you when you kissed Kyle?"

Stan looked to the floor, still embarrassed and possibly ashamed. His smile faded. "I-I don't wanna talk about that right now. I just wanna be with you, Wendy."

She looked down at the floor sadly, hearing Cartman's words haunt her. "Does it mean you don't like me?"

"No!" Stan answered quickly. "No, of course not...I don't because...I guess for the same reason I throw up...But I didn't do that this time...It passed…So will that problem."

She pressed her forehead against his shoulder and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Sensing her returning to the normal Wendy he had grown to care for, Stan placed his arms back around her.

"Me too...But we've got a second chance now...It's gonna be okay babe...It's all gonna be okay."

Something about his soft words made her want to cry, but she resisted. Wendy Testaburger was not weak.

"Cartman won't tell anyone." She promised quietly.

Stan raised an eyebrow questioningly. "How do you know that?"

"I just know," she responded, feeling no need to explain her brief romance with his fat friend. She pulled back to look at him once again, smiling gingerly as she placed a hand to his cheek. "Promise me Kyle was just a phase." She commanded lightly. "Tell me you don't love him that way."

Stan looked into her eyes. His mouth opened, but no words came out for a moment. He had to pick his words carefully. This was probably his last shot to reclaim a girl that he knew obviously loved him, faults and all. That is, if being gay was in fact a fault.

"...I can't lie to you," he said simply, hugging her again.

Her embrace was weaker this time, as was her heart. The tears stung the pretty blue of her eyes, threatening her pride. She jumped and pulled back at the sound of the phone ringing, and quickly swiped the droplets off her long eyelashes.

Stan sighed, pleading with her to stay put. "I'll get it. Just hang on okay?" He snatched the phone off its hook. "Hello?"

"Hey Stan," the obnoxious voice said into the receiver.

"What do you want, fat ass?" He asked, Wendy's surprise going unseen.

"I'm on mah cell phone calling from detention. I just wanted to see if the Jew made it there yet."

"Kyle?" His voice was a pitch higher than normal. "Are you sure you don't mean Wendy?"

"What? No dumbass, Kyle. He's s'pposed to be coming to your house and..." Cartman paused. "Ohhhh, I get it. You gahs are doing one of those role-playing things. Sick fags."

Stan looked at Wendy, swirling his finger near the side of his head in the "crazy" gesture. "I'm not role-playing anything, lard ball. Kyle isn't here. I haven't even talked to him in days."

"Oh. Well god dammit, he was supposed to be going over there. Fucking Jew's so stupid he probly got lost on the way or some...thing..." Cartman blinked, his own realization setting in. "Dude, if Kyle's not there yet, why'd you mention Wendy?"

"Because _she's_ the one who's over here, ass rammer." He spat. "I think you're the stupid one. You probably got them mixed up."

Obviously Stan had left himself wide open for a shot with the "ass rammer" remark, but Eric was too focused on the first part of the boy's comments to shoot off his ready-made response.

"...Nuh-uh. Wendy's not over there."

"Jesus Christ, Cartman, you're such a stupid fuck." He insulted. "Where else would she be? In detention with you?"

Cartman grew worried. He could and normally would slam this little fucker, but he clearly had other things on his mind. Kyle wasn't around, so his competition was still in the picture. "...Put her on," he said.

"... What? No!"

"No? Good! Then she's obviously not there like I said."

"Does it really matter?"

It did, of course, but Cartman couldn't let his need to confirm Wendy's presence be obvious.

"I just need to tell her something. It's really important. Now if she's there put her on-you're wasting my god damn battery."

Stan's glare deepened, if that were at all possible. "All right, all right! Jesus fucking Christ." He pulled the phone away from his ear and held it out to his girlfriend. "Fat ass wants to tell you something."

She took it from him reluctantly, placing it to her ear slowly... like they always did on scary movies when they thought the ghost or murderer was on the other line. "Cartman?" She murmured.

That was it. It was her voice. That one second of confirmation was all it took to make Eric feel hurt, sad, angry, rejected, confused, and humiliated all at once. He tried saying something to her-anything-but nothing could come out. After choking back the opening to various statements he felt like making, he did what he'd always done with her: stated the obvious.

"...You're...You're really over there..."

She pulled the phone away to look at it before replacing it again. She had never heard him sound that way before. "And why wouldn't I be? Stan is my boyfriend." She reminded him.

Cartman sighed. He was hurt, but just as hard-headed as Wendy. He wasn't going to let it show as much as possible.

"Sure he is...Whatever...Have fun then, I guess...I hope you're happy..."

"Cartman," She rushed.

Not wanting to fight, or worse, break down via telephone with the woman he was kissing less than an hour ago, Eric simply hung up his telephone without even a goodbye.

She squeezed her eyes closed painfully at the sound of the dial-tone and clicked off the phone as she lowered it to her side. She stood unmoving, her back to Stan, unsure where to go from here.

"Well thank god that's over with," Stan said, smiling as Wendy hung up his phone for him. "But I have to admit; pretending to like Cartman was a great way to make me jealous. You're so smart." Stan got up behind Wendy, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She stood limply, not even attempting to return any sort of embrace. Pretend to like Cartman. Right... she even had herself fooled. She turned herself around to face him, peering seriously into his eyes.

"Make love to me."

She almost gasped at her own words, not realizing what she said until it came out. Her emotions were really fucked, that was for sure.

Stan's jaw dropped. She was back to acting strangely, but the proposition was an interesting one. Still, did he really want to? Did she really want him to? Stan wiped his brow clean of a nervous bead of sweat that had suddenly formed on his forehead, and then repeated her statement.

"Make love to you? ...Now? ...I don't know..."

Screw common sense, her heart yelled at her. She laced her hands behind his neck and raised herself on tip-toes for a seductive kiss. She knew how to be persuading. "Please," She whispered through kisses. "I need you to. I _want _you to."

Stan groaned reluctantly as he began kissing Wendy back on her lips. The idea of sex was exciting to Stan's young male hormones, regardless of the other participant involved. As he pressed against her body in growing arousal, he took her hand in his and silently moved them over to his couch.

She leaned back against the cushions and pulled him onto her, never breaking the kiss.

'Make me forget about Cartman...' She thought as her hands found the hem of Stan's shirt and broke the kiss only long enough to pull the material off his body.

Already breathing heavy, Stan smiled down at his old flame. He had dreamed of this moment plenty of times, and they say make up sex is great. Surely this wouldn't be so bad. Taking the dominant position, Stan began lifting Wendy's shirt over her own head. His lips playfully kissed up and down her upper body, traveling from her neck to her chest to her stomach and back again, not yet aiming for a bra removal.

She arched her back at the sensation of his lips against her sensitive skin, and moaned in pleasure as her fingers brushed through his hair and down his back.

Stan moved his mouth away from the girl, interestingly enough never attempting to kiss her below the belly button. As Stanley admired Wendy's still half-bare, bra covered form, he worked on removing his own pants.

Her eyebrows knit in puzzlement. He wasn't even hard yet. Maybe he was just nervous...It had been known to happen to guys before. Taking advantage of the moment, she smoothed her hands down his chest, paying extra attention to his nipples before moving on downward to assist in his pant removal.

Stan placed his hands on hers, stopping her action for a moment. "Hey, uh, y-you're really sure you wanna do this?"

"Sure I'm sure," She breathed heavily, keeping her hands on his pants. "Don't you?"

"W-well sure I do! Of course I do!" Stan nodded his head. He must want this. ALL guys wanted this. He continued attempting to psyche himself up, literally, as his pants lowered.

"You don't have to be nervous," she soothed. "Just relax." She leaned upward and pushed him over, taking the top position by straddling his lap. Her fingers crept teasingly along the elastic band of his boxes. "Is this more comfortable?"

"...I...uhh..." Stan simply gulped, his eyes shutting as he attempted to relax and enjoy this.

Mistaking his reaction for passion, she lowered her mouth to his chest and kissed her way downward, allowing her tongue to dance and glide across his navel and beyond.

Stan moaned, biting his tongue for a moment. He hated himself for this. He really did. But he knew he'd hate himself more if this continued.

"Stop!" he blurted out. "Just…Just stop…"

Her eyes snapped up to his, her index fingers hooked into the top of his boxers, which she had been about to yank off. "What's wrong?"

Stan sighed deeply. "...I can't do this..." He opened his eyes and sat up, staring thoughtfully and lovingly into Wendy's eyes. "...Look, I've known you a really long time. And we've had a mostly great relationship. You were my first love, Wendy, and that's always gonna make you special to me...And because you're so special to me, I can't let us do this...I'm sorry..."

She moved away from him, staring blankly ahead. What was wrong with her? If he loved her, then why didn't he want her? Maybe, she just wasn't good enough. She buried her face in her hands and hiccupped a sob. So much for pride.

Stan attempted another hug, continuing to speak. "I just feel like we're not thinking clearly. Either of us...What you said about me…I think you were right."

"Right about what?" She squeaked through tears.

Stan cuddled the girl to his still-bare chest. "You said that I can't handle a relationship right now. That I needed to be alone for a while...I think you're right...This whole Kyle thing...It just proved that I don't know what I am or who I want yet...And that's not your fault. Or mine, or Kyle's...It's just how it goes...But I'll be damned if I'm gonna let a girl I care about give her virginity to a guy who isn't totally devoted to her...You deserve that Wendy."

She leaned against him, taking in his warmth and laughed even as more tears came. "We just got back together twenty minutes ago, and you're already breaking up with me?"

Stan smiled a bit, rubbing his hands along her back. "Heh. I'm afraid so...But hey, that's gotta be some kind of record. We made history."

She nuzzled her face in his neck and sighed heartbrokenly. "Just don't... let go yet." She begged on a whimper, not even caring she was still nearly topless.

"I won't," he replied soothingly into her ear. "...Wendy, you're a great friend. And I'm always gonna love you...But I just, can't say I'm in love with you. That's the kinda guy you should be with...Maybe I'll get my shit together someday, and maybe we really will make love...I just don't want you having any regrets. And I know you would've regretted this."

"Why do you have to be so wonderful?" She said it angrily, but still didn't pull away. "It's my entire fault, Stan. I'm sorry, please don't hate me. I'm sorry..."

"Whoa, whoa, it's okay...How the hell is it your fault?"

"About Kyle," She admitted, finally pushing away from him to face him with teary eyes. "I wanted to know who it was. I knew it was a -someone- that took you away and I was hurt and I... went to Cartman for help." She swallowed back another sob.

"...So, you're the reason Cartman found out about me and Kyle? ...And the reason I dumped him like an asshole..." Stan sighs.

"There's more," She confessed.

Stan took her hand, trying to comfort her. "Shoot."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her rattled nerves. So far he was taking it okay, In a way it was kind of scary. "I had detention today because Cartman's an asshole, only Kyle was there, but he wasn't suppose to be, and I thought I didn't want you anymore, so Cartman and I told him we wouldn't tell anyone, which we wont, and we told him that we would cover for him so he can work things out with you. But then, I don't know, it was just..."

She swallowed hard_. "Boners," _She exclaimed animatedly. "And I thought about you and how you're so gentle. And Kyle was caught leaving detention, he was in the principals office when I left, and I was glad because it meant that I could-" She took a deep breath and met his gaze again, finally slowing her rapid speech on the last three words. "Steal you back."

Stan nodded very slowly, trying to take this all in. "...O...kay...So you got a little jealous. That's normal...Now, what's this about boners?"

She looked down at her hands, twiddling her thumbs nervously. "Cartman," she paused, thinking it over some. "I went into the janitor's closet with him, and... Well I didn't know I was _that_ good a kisser, it never happens to you."

A disgusted look came over Stan's face. "Dude, you made out with Cartman? Aww!"

Her eyebrows furrowed. It was always so weird with him. One minute he could be so sweet and the next he was a total jack-off. "You're really one to pass judgment."

Stan shuddered. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry...But Cartman?" Stan's eyebrows raised in confusion. "...Well anyway, that still doesn't make any of this your fault. You know what I think?"

"If you call me a hippie or a hoe..." she let her voice trail off, not even needing to voice a threat.

Stan shook his head, and finally passed Wendy her shirt. "I think you just had the same problem I did...Wendy, let's face it. We're familiar. We're sort of like each other's safety net. We're having all these new feelings for new people...It's a little scary...So we turn to each other, to what's safe and familiar, so we don't have to feel those things anymore...But obviously that doesn't work."

Her anger settled immediately. She accepted her shirt, pulling it over her head awkwardly as she considered this. She pulled her long, shiny hair out of the shirt as she spoke.

"I really do love you, Stan. I always have."

Stan puts his own shirt back on, and gives Wendy a small peck on the cheek.

"I know...And you deserve somebody that's gonna love you just as much back. You're a great girl Wendy, and don't you forget it...Who knows? Maybe we'll get together again sometime. Maybe you'll date...Cartman...Maybe something else will happen...But we'll never know if we keep trying to win each other back like this. S'not healthy you know?"

She nodded, cursing the knot of mixed emotions in her stomach. "It's probably best if I... if I leave,"

She stood from the couch, straightening her shirt out as she went to the door, and paused to look back at him with her hand on the door knob. "Bye, Stan."

Stan sighs. "Bye Wendy."

He paused, posing one last question to her before she left.

"Friends?"

She smiled warmly at him. In a way she wanted to cling to him, try anything to change his mind, convince him they were meant to be together. Another part of her was relieved. "Always." She promised, and forced herself out the door before she changed her mind.

---

Meanwhile back at school, Kyle stormed out of the principal's office. His furrowed eyebrows indicated that he was angry; as well he should be considering what happened. He walked right back to the detention room, finding Cartman slumped over in his desk, sniffling.

"Cartman?" His voice was a mixture of surprise and puzzlement. He took a hesitant step forward and tilted his head to the side, trying to see his 'friend's' face. "Are you... _crying?"_

Cartman composed himself, sitting up in his desk when he heard Kyle's voice. "No!" he snapped. "I was just...snorting cocaine!"

Kyle smirked as he slid into the desk beside the lying son of a bitch. "So you're a hippie now?"

Cartman glared at him. "Don't you _ever _call me a hippie you dirty son of a bitch...Besides, non-hippies do coke too."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself so you can sleep at night..." He glanced around the room. "Where's Wendy?"

"She left...And I thought you did too!"

"That's what happens when principals lurk after hours." He grumbled. "I slammed right into him in the hall. Bastard called my mom. I could hear her yelling all the way across the room."

"Heh-heh, you're in trouble huh? I hope she beats you."

"I hope you choke on a chicken leg and die slowly and alone, you fat fuck!"

"I probably will" he muttered to himself.

Kyle's scowl softened. It never seemed to matter what Cartman said or did to him, he was way too compassionate a person to ignore a problem.

"Hey, Cartman," He tried again, his voice soft this time. "Why _were _you crying?"

Cartman thought about lying again, but opted for the truth instead. The truth, in this case, could be used to humiliate Wendy or at least remind Kyle how single he is. Either way, Cartman felt he was going to be a winner by blabbing the news of his affair.

"Wendy and Stan are back together."

Kyle stared blankly, not blinking, not breathing. The only thing that moved for almost an entire minute was his heartbeat, quick and painfully.

"God dammit, Cartman! Why do you always have to be like that? You were practically shoving me out the door so I could go make up with him, and now you're trying to make me hate him again? What the _fuck _is your problem!?"

"What's _my _problem? I'll tell you what my problem is. My problem is that Wendy's a god damn ho! My problem is that she wants Stan and not me, and _you _couldn't sneak out of here in time to go fag it up with him! That's _my _problem, Kahl!"

His anger ceased again. Being around Cartman couldn't be good for his health. "They..." He swallowed hard, pausing a moment to study the profile beside him. He honestly looked distressed, and even though he was a hell of an actor, a twinge of pain filled Kyle's stomach. "They really are back together, aren't they?"

Cartman nodded; a bit sad himself. "I called Stan, and she was over there. She said he was her boyfriend and everything." He sighed.

Kyle's jaw hung slightly open in shock. "That... dirty ho." He spoke quietly, more to himself than anyone.

"What're you so upset about?" Cartman questioned. "It's not like he really loves her."

"What the hell does that matter?" He spat. "If he's back with her, obviously he doesn't love me, either!" He slammed his fist onto his desk with a riveting pound. "And what the hell are you so god damned depressed about, you fat piece of shit!? The fact that you can't make my life hell anymore because Stan decided to play it straight!?" He shook with rage, and although it was directed at Cartman, his source of hatred burned toward Stan.

Cartman flipped his friend off, not having the energy at the moment to fight too badly with him. "I hope he does play it straight. Maybe then he'll get boners too and Wendy won't touch him. Stupid cock-teasing dyke whore hippie..."

"Wait...You popped a tent for Wendy?" He began laughing, despite his heartache. "Dude, no wonder she ran away!"

"OH, KISS MY ASS!" Eric shouted back at Kyle. "For your information Jew, me and Wendy had a thing going! Yeah, that's right. We made out in the closet and everything, so fuck you! That's why I didn't tell your stupid little secret. I wanted you two ramming each other so Wendy couldn't have him, but obviously a queer is what she wants, so whatever!"

"Dude, Cartman, I-" Kyle sighed. "It's your fucking fault in the first place. Stan broke it off with me because of you. Normally I would say you deserve it, but-" He looked down, rubbing his aching stomach. "No one deserves to feel like this. To hurt so badly you can't breathe."

Cartman sighs. "Fine, let's all blame Cartman. It's my fault I get hard ons. It's my fault Stan dumped you because he _thought _I was gonna force him out of the closet. It's all my fault. Great."

"It _is _all your fault." Kyle grumbled. He picked at the sleeve of his sweater, pausing as he thought Cartman's words over. "_Thought _you were gonna force him out of the closet?" He looked back to the boy beside him. "You weren't?"

"Normally? Yeah probably...And I'm still gonna make fun of you for being a rump ranger."

Ignoring the offending remark, he asked another question. "Why did you want to know who Stan was with, anyway? Does Wendy honestly have you that whipped that you did it just because she asked you to?"

"...Yeah, pretty much," he admitted, surprised he had so easily given in to Wendy's request in retrospect. "...But of course, torturing you to get the information was nice."

"Asshole." He hissed, before burying his face in his palms with a painful sigh.

Cartman put his own sad face in his hands, pondering all of the aforementioned events in his mind.

"You know, we shouldn't get mad. We should get even."

"Get even?" He questioned, rubbing his temples tiredly.

"Duh! Stan and Wendy fucked around with our emotions. Why are we sitting here like pussies about it when we could be plotting sweet revenge?"

"Because it's sick and it's wrong." Kyle scolded. "I don't want to sink to their level, I'm better than that."

"I'm not" Cartman said matter-of-factly. "But I can't think of what to do anyway."

"You can't think of something evil?" Kyle snorted. "Whoa, she really fucked you up. Revenge wouldn't make a difference anyway. I mean, we could always find other people to make them jealous, or stop talking to them, but they'll probably be too busy screwing each other to notice. Or, we could try to break -them- up, but they'd just get back together. Let's face it, Wendy and Stan are meant to be together. Nothing has been able to keep them apart. Not even us."

"...You're right..." Cartman confessed, frowning. "Those are all good ideas, but it won't matter. None of them would work. They want each other. Always have, always will. There's nothing we can do about that...Unless, of course, we kill one of them..."

"We are _not_ going to kill one of them, Cartman!" He snapped. "Besides, the other one would probably just kill themselves right along with it."

Cartman nodded. "Like Romeo and Juliet...But then we'd kill two assholes at once. I fail to see the problem here."

"You really want to emphasize their God damn love for each other by turning it into a timeless romance? Fuck that shit."

Cartman swore under his breath. "Shit!" The Jew actually had a point there. "Fine, no killing...Fuck it, I'm just not gonna talk to them anymore. You do what you want."

Another bell rang, apparently signaling the end of detention and other late activities. Cartman gathered his things and headed out, not bothering to say goodbye to his semi-friend.

Unlike his quick counterpart, Kyle stood wearily and dragged himself out of the classroom. He would never kill another person. But killing himself was a different story entirely, and at the moment, had its appeal.

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_-KyleisGod & BratChild3_


	7. Third Best

**Authors Note: **Everyone probably forgot about this... and that sucks. Took so long to update cuz a lots going on over here, but it's updated. :) Hope you enjoy.

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**Chapter 7- Third Best.**

A few more hours passed in the day. Stan had since put his pants back on, and spent the last few hours in deep thought. He had finally settled things with Wendy, and thankfully in a peaceful manner. Now if only he could convey his same thoughts to Kyle. They hadn't spoken in a while, and of course Stanley missed his friend terribly. He knew there might be some backlash for his actions, but he had to take the chance. After dinner, Stan went to his room and dialed his friend's house.

The voice that answered wasn't one he expected, or wanted to hear. "Good evening, this is the Broflovski residence," Shelia's voice rung out, loud and confident.

"Uh, hi." Stan said in mild surprise. "Is Kyle home?"

"Oh, hi there, Stanley." She spoke pleasantly, an action that was few and far between. "Kyle's up in his room, he's been there all night, but I'm afraid I can't let you talk to him. He's grounded for a month."

"Oh. Well, that's okay. What happened?"

"I don't know where I went wrong," she started, obviously about to go on a rant. "First he goes and leaves his brother all alone at school after I taught him to be responsible. He's the eldest, he should know to look out for his younger siblings, am I right? I got a call from the principal today. He's been falling asleep in class, plus his grades are slipping. I have a smart boy, I just don't understand it. And the reason the principal called in the first place is to tell me he was sneaking out of detention! I didn't even know he had it to begin with. I told him he was grounded when he got home, and do you know what he said to me? He used the 'F' word and told me exactly what to do with myself. Now, he won't even come out of his room for dinner. What's going on with him, Stanley? It isn't drugs, is it?"

"I doubt it," Stan finally replied when Sheila stopped talking. "Kyle's too smart to do drugs. It's probly just a slump or something."

But of course that wasn't the whole truth. Stan couldn't help but feel that maybe he was at least partially to blame for Kyle's bad behavior. He quickly added to the conversation, preferring to converse with Kyle in private rather than at school tomorrow.

"Could I come over or something? Maybe I could talk to him for you."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. I can't just give him what he wants when he's grounded, that's spoiling him."

"I guess...But I'm not so sure he'd wanna see me right now anyway."

"Of course he would want to see you, don't be silly. You boys have been best friends forever," she remarked, "which is why I trust you to tell me if something's really wrong with him, because I know you would want him to get proper care."

"Well that's the thing. We had a fight the other day. I know he's probly pissed off about that still, but that's all I know."

"Oh...oh dear, my poor little Kyle…" She placed a hand to her chin and looked toward the staircase. "It's no wonder he's been in such a rotten mood. Fighting with you must be like losing his other half."

She considered a moment, and finally caved. "Why don't you come on over here, Stanley, and try to work things out? If that's what's bothering him, he won't get better until things are resolved. And bring a jacket, young man. It's cold outside."

Stan smiled; eager to resolve things as well. "Yes ma'am. Thanks!" He hung up the phone and gathered his things.

---

Stan arrived at Kyle's in no time, practically sprinting there from the moment he hung up with Sheila. He exchanged the usual pleasantries with his best friend's family, then headed upstairs to deal with the situation at hand. Being polite, he knocked on Kyle's door to alert the boy he was coming inside.

"Kyle? It's me..."

Kyle's hand froze above the paper he was writing on. Slow, dark markings of anger and heartache mixed with his tears and filled the blank spaces between the faint blue lines. His eyebrows furrowed; his markings with the pen deeper as he began again. He thought he heard Stan. That was the third fucking time tonight.

Stan knocked again, louder, and continued speaking to the bedroom door. "Kyle? Please let me in...I'd really like to talk about all this...Wendy said you were gonna come by earlier, but I guess you got held up or something."

He clenched his fist tightly, snapping the pen in half and splattering watery ink across his note of hatred; or what others like to call a "suicide note." He had thought about what Cartman said after he got home. And the more reality sunk in, the more it hurt. He couldn't just sit back and watch Stan and Wendy live happily ever after, while the fat ass sulked about it and used _him _as his target of hurt. He wanted the pain to end. He glanced down at his inky hand. "Damnit." He cursed, ignoring the person on the other side of the door. He didn't want to hear about Wendy and how they were a "them" again. Fuck it.

"Kyle, your mom's really worried about you...Come on, I came all this way...Could you at least say _something _so I know you're not in the bathroom right now?"

He growled beneath his breath, slamming the paper onto his desk, and turned to face his window. The last time he would ever see the moon. "I'm only going to say this once," he shouted, amazed his voice was so cool and steady. "Fuck off."

Stan replied just as calmly, still speaking to the door. "You know what? That's fair. I deserve that. But if you really were gonna come over earlier, you weren't just gonna tell me to fuck off. Maybe you wanted to work things out. Maybe you wanted to kick my ass. Whatever you were gonna do though, you wanted to see me face to face to do it. Well I'm here now, and I'm coming in anyway. So do what you have to do, and then maybe we can fix this. All I want is a chance to say what I wanna say. I'm coming in dude."

"Go ahead and try. Doors locked!" He informed.

"Then I'll break it down, or come in through your window or something. Kyle, the point is I'm not leaving until we talk about this. You might as well let me in."

"You might as well be my fucking mother." He mumbled. "I already know what you want to say, so why don't you just get in here and say it so you can leave me the hell alone? I don't even have a lock on my door, but I'm sure that would be easy for someone like you to forget."

Stan paused, then mentally kicked himself for being so retarded as to talk to an unlocked door. He entered the room anyway. "Yeah well, you're a smart guy. For all I know you coulda put a lock on this thing." Stan's attempt to justify his stupidity clearly saved him no face, so he continued. "Anyway, I'm sorry."

"Sorry that I think you're a two-faced bastard, or sorry that I'm right about it?" Kyle continued to face the window, slowly slipping the small silver knife he held into the sleeve of his sweater, though completely forgetting his extremely beautiful note placed upon his desk.

Stan ignored the insults and kept speaking, not noticing Kyle's subtle behavior with the concealed knife.

"Sorry that I hurt you. Look, I'm not gonna try and defend what I did to you or to Wendy. But aren't I entitled to fuck up once in a while? The point is I'm here now and I wanna make things better with us...You're my best friend…"

"Our parents teach us wrong." Kyle decided. "They teach us to say sorry when we do something to hurt someone else, or when we do something wrong. They think they're teaching us to actually _be_ sorry and mean it. But, it's just a word people use to hurt people and get away with it. Sorry isn't going to work this time, Stan. If you were really sorry you hurt me, you would stop doing it."

"Kyle, I never, ever thought we'd stop talking like we did. That was my fault and I _am_ sorry for it. But obviously I'm not still thinking that way, so how am I hurting you now?"

The red head whirled around violently, pain and anger flashing in his eyes. "If you don't know, then you're even more of a fucking asshole than I ever gave you credit for! I know all about what you came here to tell me, and it's not okay, Stan! Sometimes it's just not okay!"

"What are you talking about? I came here to apologize. That's it! I don't know what the hell you-"

Stan cut himself off, gasping in shock. With Kyle turned around, Stan could finally see the cut along his friend's arm.

"KYLE! WHAT THE FUCK?!" He rushed over to his friend out of instinct and grabbed his arm, attempting to stop the blood flow.

Kyle ripped his arm away violently and cradled the abused skin. "Don't touch me." He warned calmly.

"Are you crazy?! What the hell are you thinking cutting yourself!" Stan removed his jacket before he could get an answer, forcing a sleeve around Kyle's wound whether he liked it or not.

"God dammit, why do you always have to save me?" He cursed, trying his best to free his arm. "I don't want to be fucking saved!"

"STOP IT!" Stan snapped authoritatively at his friend, shaking him slightly as the bleeding ceased. "STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

Kyle's eyes were wide with fear as he allowed the tiny knife to slip out of his palm and hit the carpet without a sound.

Stan stared at the knife on the floor. He didn't know what to say, especially if sorry wasn't good enough. He expected going in that the night with Kyle might involve some violence, but nothing like this. Not wanting to let the obviously fragile boy go, Stan simply embraced Kyle in a warm, tight hug, his own body shaking with nerves.

Kyle stood limply, not allowing his arms to return the gesture until he felt his own tears well up after long last. The tremors that wrecked Stan's body mirrored exactly the way he felt on the inside, and he wondered why he never could cry as easily as Stan always did. He blinked rapidly, eyes finding the knife on the floor, and the stain of blood beside it. Oh fuck...His mom was going to kill him for ruining her carpet.

"Kyle?" Stan finally said in a soft voice, his own eyes filling with tears. "What...what can I do? ...Whatever it is, I'll do it. Okay? Just...just stop this..."

Kyle kept his eyes on the glinting weapon, wanting so badly to hold it again. "You can't help who you love." He swallowed dryly. "And I can't either. I can't just sit around and watch the two of you together, because Kenny's right, I'll never get over it."

Stan sniffled. "W-watch me and who? I still don't know what you're talking about."

His hands shot out, shoving Stan in the chest and successfully pushing him away. "Wendy." He answered darkly. "Cartman already told me you're back together. I hope you knew what a dirty slut she is before you stuck it in her! She's been tonguing Cartman in detention, in case you're unaware!"

"I'm not back with her." Stan corrected immediately, though he was still too shaken up by Kyle's actions to truly respond emotionally or defensively. "I didn't fuck her. I know about her and Cartman...I'm not with her. I'm not with anybody, and I'm not fit to be right now."

"And you expect me to just take your word for it?" He glanced from Stan to the knife and back again. That sucker was his in about thirty seconds.

"Yes, because I'm your best friend!" Stan sobbed. "...Look, I won't lie to you. Wendy came over. And yes, we thought about getting back together...We even started fooling around. But we _stopped_ and thought about it logically. If you don't believe me, ask her yourself...Kyle, nothing is worth hurting yourself over. I'm not. I don't want you doing this. You wanna cut something? Cut me."

"I'm not going to cut you!" He retorted, and swiftly scooped the knife off the ground. "And don't give me any of this 'best friend' bull crap. You stopped being my best friend the day you ditched me! Kenny's so full of shit. He actually had the nerve to convince me you were innocent. 'Stan cares about you more than anything, Kyle. Stan was only thinking of you, Kyle. You're the selfish one, Kyle.' Bull fucking shit. You didn't even screw me over because Cartman was a threat, did you? It was just so you could 'fool around' with Wendy!"

"I WAS thinking of you!" Stan said, the emotion in his voice returning if only because he wanted Kyle to put the knife away. "I had nothing to do with all that! Look at me! Look at my fucking face, Kyle!!" he demanded, tears falling freely from his eyes. "Do I look like somebody who doesn't care about you?! Huh?! I don't want Wendy! I don't know what I want, except for you not to hurt yourself. I'm not gonna let you cut up your arm again. So either put that down and come with me, or kick my ass, because I'm NOT letting you hurt yourself just because I was an asshole!" Stan's tears flew heavier now.

"Fine, you do it." He agreed, tossing the knife easily to Stan. "If you won't let me hurt myself, then you can do it for me! You've already stabbed me in the back, might as well stab me in the heart while you're at it! It already feels like you have, so what the hell does it matter?"

Stan hurled that evil knife as far away from Kyle as he possibly could. He sighed in sadness and also in slight relief before turning away from the window to once again face his friend, still crying. "You really think you could handle it? You really think you could've handled Cartman telling the whole school about us? Or your family? Look at you! Look what you're doing _now _Kyle! How much worse would it be if I _didn't_ stop everything?"

"At least I would have had my best friend." His words were spoken with softness this time, now regretting giving up his only way out so easily.

Stan sniffled. "But...But you do have that. You always will. That's why I'm here...Kyle, I care about you in a way I'm never gonna care about anybody else. You were my best friend since grade school. You were the first guy I ever thought about...I've done things with you I couldn't do with someone else. I can't stop caring about you if I tried, and I _did_ try. You're it Kyle."

A sob hiccupped its way out of his throat with a rush of denied tears. So this it what it felt like to cry like Stan. In a weird way, it felt good.

Emotionally drained and mentally exhausted, Stan simply hugged his crying friend once again while his own tears continued falling. "...We'll talk about it. Okay? We'll...We'll get you some help..."

Kyle buried his face in the crook of Stan's neck and nodded. Maybe Kenny wasn't such a lying bastard after all.

---

The sun came up the next day and another school day began. Neither Stan nor Kyle was present today, both obviously having too many personal issues to deal with to worry about school. Another group of former partners had their own issues to work out however. Wendy approached Cartman at his locker for the first time since the awkward phone call. He was putting his books away and preparing for lunch.

She cleared her throat loudly to gain his attention.

Cartman paused. He heard her, but chose to ignore it. His back still to the girl, he continued putting his books up.

She frowned in puzzlement, and opted for a different approach. Sneaking closer beside him, she tapped his shoulder lightly with her index finger.

Eric put up the last of his books, and pulled out his old trusty green pal Clyde Frog from the back of the locker. He held the limp, lifeless puppet in one hand while locking up his other important belongings with the other.

"That's funny Clyde Frog," Cartman remarked. "I thought I felt a whore touching me."

Normally that would have set off her anger mode. This time, all it did was hurt. She deserved it, she knew, but it still hurt.

"Clyde Frog," She spoke to the doll that had -oddly enough- been a huge help to her previously. "Could you tell Car-" She broke off her sentence, wanting it to be more personal. "Could you tell _Eric_ that I'm sorry for being a bitch?"

Cartman paused in his tracks, stopping his move down the hallway. Wendy admitting she was wrong? This had to be good. Way better than the silent treatment.

"...You have Clyde Frog's attention. Go on."

She cleared her throat again, lacing her fingers behind her back and searching the ground thoughtfully. "Tell him that...I'm sorry for running out on him. Tell him that I'm sorry for making such a big deal out of something that's perfectly normal. I only freaked out because...I liked it, too. And it scared me because I never felt that way before." Her hands were now in front of her, palms turned upward in a helpless gesture. "Tell him that I've never felt anything I feel when I'm around him. And tell him...that I'm sorry if I hurt his feelings."

Cartman turned around, finally looking Wendy in the face. Her words were kind and sounded sincere. Still, he was skeptical.

"That's all well and good, but Clyde Frog is still hurt. Even if you are sorry, it's obvious who you like more. You wanted Stan and you're with him, while Clyde Frog is left with nothing."

"But I'm not with Stan," she argued kindly, daring to take a step closer.

"Oh, so what? He dumped you and you came running back to us? I don't think so. Clyde Frog isn't falling for that. He's not your play thing." Cartman turned around and continued walking, the doll at his side.

"Stan _did_ dump me." She admitted, her shout catching him. "He did it because he knew we were making a mistake, because he knew we don't love each other in that way. I just didn't see it. But I do now. I was wrong!"

Cartman stopped again in mid-movement. He looked back at Wendy, then ahead to the cafeteria. He looked back and forth a few times before waving at Wendy to 'come on' with his free hand and join him during lunch to continue this interesting conversation.

She squeezed her eyes closed in relief, a slight smile gracing her features as she took up the offer and fell into step beside him. "Does this mean you forgive me?" She asked, completely disregarding Clyde Frog this time.

"It means I'm thinking about it, and I'm sure as hell not gonna miss lunch for you" he said, ignoring the frog as well while putting Wendy in her place.

She looked down; hiding a smile behind her silky hair and hoping he couldn't hear her muffled giggles. "You might if you wanted to skip straight to dessert." She mumbled, amused at her own dirty thoughts.

Cartman walked into the lunch line. "...Wendy, what are we?" he asked plainly.

"We're human beings." She answered matter-of-factly.

"I mean us" Cartman glared. "First we were enemies. Then we sorta became friends. Then...well, the closet thing...And now I don't know what the fuck we are! But what I do know is I feel second best. I feel second best to Stan, and I don't wanna be second best with you. Whatever we are, whatever I am to you, I wanna be the best. So what the fuck are we now? Huh?"

"We're attracting a lot of attention," she noted in an angry whisper, her hand gesturing outward to indicate the few people who were now looking at them.

"Don't care" Cartman replied, glad the bitch was embarrassed. She should be after what she did. "You need to figure out the answer to that question. I'm not gonna be second best for anybody." Eric moved forward in line, grabbing some random food, and taking a few second helpings while he was at it.

"Sometimes," She began, grabbing a bowl of pudding right out of his hand and nearly slamming it down on her own tray, just to get his full attention. "You _have_ to be second best. Obviously, I'm only third best to _you_, so why should you be number one to me?"

"How are you third best?" he asked skeptically.

"Fourth, now that I really think about it." She corrected herself. "You always put yourself first. _Always. _That position is filled. Second? Food." She pointed at the entire row of food lined up in front of them. "Third, Kyle. You're so obsessed with screwing him over and pissing him off, that he occupies more than half your thoughts and time. That leaves me with fourth best, if I'm even lucky enough to make it that far. And you'd better move, you're holding up the damn line."

Cartman rolled his eyes, but did move out of line. "Well then, I can tell you're obviously very sorry" he said sarcastically. "I wonder what we'll name our children." He took a seat at a table, making sure Clyde Frog had the seat next to him. "And for your information, some of this food is his."

Ever persistent in getting what she wanted, she boldly sat across from him, violently slamming her knee against his in the process. "I'm sorry _if_ I hurt you, I'm not sorry that I finally have closure with Stan, and if I could do it all again, I would without a second thought." She could feel a tension headache starting at the nape of her neck... EXACTLY what she needed to top it all off. "And if some of that is Clyde Frogs, I'd like to see him eat it."

"He will when he feels like it!" Cartman said in defense of his friend. "Look, there's a difference between you and food and Kyle, okay? There's a big difference. It's not a fair comparison."

"It's not a fair comparison between you and Stan, either!" She insisted, her small fist pounding the table once.

"Right, because he's first and I'm second." Cartman began eating some of his food. "You know why it pissed me off so much Wendy? Because Stan, as he's proven, doesn't want you anymore. You picked someone who _doesn't want you_ over me. It's one thing to not want me or reject me or whatever, but you could've at least rejected me for someone who wasn't a homo for God's sake! How the FUCK is that supposed to make me feel?! That _would_ be like me picking a sandwich over you. Would you like that? Hm? I like you, and that's way better than someone who doesn't, but that still wasn't enough to make you pick me. I see where I am on your god damn pecking order, and I don't like it."

"Wait," She shook her head to clear it, feeling nauseated by her forming headache. "You weren't upset because I walked out on you; you were only upset because I walked out for Stan?" Her mouth nearly hung open from disbelief before closing again in a hard, thin line. "I don't think I like where _I_ am on _your_ god damn list, but I guess that's just too bad, isn't it?"

"Well yeah! I'm used to girls saying no to me, but not for somebody that doesn't even like them. Jesus Christ..." He sighed and continued eating. "Like I said, figure out what we are. You said in the hall that I made you feel ways no one else did, but here we are again fighting like usual."

"Maybe I'm in the same boat as Stan right now. Maybe I don't know what I want either." She got up from her seat, ignoring her untouched tray of food. "But I can promise one thing; the hippie bitch will disappear for awhile. Maybe you should figure out what you really want. It may even turn out to be Kyle."

"Oh, very funny. I know god damn well what I want and it sure as shit isn't Kyle. And you? You'll never stop being a hippie bitch that drives me crazy, but that doesn't matter because I still-" He gritted his teeth, catching himself in mid-sentence. He continued with his voice lowering. "...Because I still like you god dammit."

She stood a moment, wanting to leave and sit back down all at once, so she chose to remain as she was. "You certainly have a funny way of showing it." She snuck a hand up to her neck, rubbing at the aches. "Look, Cartman, I'm trying. I said I was sorry, but that's really all I can do. If you can't forgive me, then you can't forgive me. But I will not sit around and let you insult me because I don't deserve to be treated that way. It doesn't matter what you think."

"As if making out with me and then running away isn't a funny way of showing it. Right. You know you..." He paused, noticing her rubbing at her neck. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," She assured, wincing as she pulled her hand away from the relieving pressure point. "Sometimes when I worry about something too much, I get really bad headaches. What were you saying?"

"...And just what exactly are you worrying about?" he asked curiously.

"You, obviously." She pointed out, sinking back down into the seat and placing her hand to her temple.

"I thought my opinion didn't matter," Cartman said, obviously gloating. "...You want some aspirin or something?"

She waved off the question with her hands before resting her forehead on both palms. "It matters, trust me." It didn't even matter anymore if it inflated his ego. Maybe it would get so big it would pop.

Eric took another bite of food. Now that they had gotten done defending themselves and insulting each other, things were a bit calm. Not knowing how long that would last, Cartman spoke again.

"...You know, when I was in detention, I started to think about getting you back. I wanted to. A lot. But I couldn't think of what to do to you. There was nothing I wanted to do to you. If Kyle had pissed me off like you did, I would've come up with a plan in a second. But you...I just..." He sighs. "...Wendy, if we can help it, I don't think I wanna go back to hating you. If I do, after what you did, I'm gonna make your life hell. We both know I can...But I just...I-I don't want to..."

"It's not up to me whether or not you hate me." Her hands slid down to cover her eyes. "And I don't think it's up to you either. You can say you hate me if you don't, you can say you like me if you don't, but neither will be true if you don't actually feel it."

Cartman finished another piece of food. "You know what we are? We're like Batman and Cat Woman."

Her fingertips ceased their circular rotating before sliding off her face. "What?"

Cartman nodded; sure he had found a good analogy here. "Batman and Cat Woman were always fighting with each other. But at the same time they were always hot for each other too. They wanted to get together, but they couldn't cuz neither one was gonna stop being what they were."

She frowned; a little concerned that seemed to make so much sense. "Did they ever work it out?" Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. She was really lowering her standards here.

Cartman shook his head. "But they could have really easily. And that's mah point. It _is_ up to us whether or not like we like each other, because it's the stuff we say and do that changes how we feel about each other. I mean, look at us. A couple years ago I never would've thought we'd be making out in a closet. You were my enemy. It would've made no...sense...Huh..." Cartman lowered his head, picking at his food as he trailed off in deep thought.

She watched him curiously. "What happened?"

"...I'm just thinking..." he responded slowly, still lost in thought. "Wow..."

She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "What?"

"...You remember earlier when I called the Stan thing a bad choice? Well it was… But, obviously there are people that would say we're a bad couple too...But here we are you know? ...I'm just thinking about it now and...I...I guess I can kind of understand why you did what you did...Sorta..."

She nodded, the pain in her heart forcing her to look down as she spoke. "I'll always love Stan. I always have. Considering that, I hope you understand that I _had_ to go to him. I had to try my hardest to make it work again, and... I had to test my feelings for him the way I did. If I didn't, I would never be able to let go, and I don't want to spend my whole life thinking I'm in love with him when in reality, I'm not."

Cartman nodded. "...It's just that, I've never really been in love before. I've never really had a relationship like you gahs did...I can't identify with that...All I know is I'm sitting here giving you shit for liking someone who wouldn't like you back, but I basically did the same thing..."

"Do me a favor and quit saying that about Stan not liking me. He _loves_ me, just not romantically." She glared defensively before going on. "And how is it that you did the same thing?"

"I fell for you." he said simply. "Us getting together flied in the face of all logic, but I still gave it a shot...And it worked, to a point...So of course you would think there was a chance with Stan...So you went there..." He sighed, looking back up to stare Wendy in the eyes again. "...You really are sorry for hurting me?" he asked.

"If I honestly hurt you, then yes. I've never been so sorry in my life." She declared. "If you were only hurt because your pride was wounded about Stan, then no, not at all."

Cartman pondered this, decided it was fair, and smiled. "Then I guess we're kewl. So you can stop having a headache now." He finished the last of his food. "...And since I know you wanna know, pride wasn't the only reason." He smiled at her and stood from the table, heading off without Clyde Frog.

"Stop having a headache now," She mimicked him. "Okay brain, you heard him. Jesus Christ."

"Oh shut up, you know what I mean." He tossed away his trash. "...So, I guess I'll see you around."

She gave a small grin, almost sad, and looked down at her food for the first time, deciding she didn't want to watch him walk away. Lord knew what their next meeting would be like.

Cartman headed off, leaving Clyde Frog to apparently finish his own lunch if the motionless puppet was even capable of such a thing. The doll stared at Wendy, clearly not full of life or making any movement for its food.

She waited until she felt Cartman's presence disappear before looking his direction. With a distant and lonely huff, she leaned her cheek against her palm, instantly noticing the doll. She perked up, looking to the empty doorway. She wasn't about to chase Cartman with a headache like she had now.

"Looks like it's just you and me, Clyde Frog."

"Are you gonna eat your fries?" he asked, finally speaking himself for the first time today.

"I'm not going to eat any of it." She pushed the tray toward the frog, not even bothering to be surprised at the voice this time. She almost expected it.

"Just don't starve yourself." he advised, still not moving or doing anything that would suggest he was actually alive. "I swear you two are like some old married couple."

"That's insulting." She remarked, looking every which way before giving in. "Why?"

"It's just what they say about people who are obviously in love but fight all the time...And you're wrong by the way. You aren't fourth on his list."

"I know. Money is." She supplied. "Do you listen to _everything_ we say?"

"How couldn't I? I was sitting right here the whole time."

"Nosey bastard." She hissed. "Where exactly am I on his list anyway?"

"Now who's being nosey?" he countered. "Eric doesn't like a lot of people, so the ones he does like are important to him. Like me...Anyway, you'll find that out soon enough, but I already know it's higher than you think. And when you realize that, I'll be there to say I told you so...Hey, look behind you."

She blinked, then turned to face the direction recommended. Nothing was behind Wendy but a wall. When she turned back to comment on the lack of importance, she found that Clyde Frog, and his food, were gone.

* * *

_-KyleisGod & BratChild3 (p.s-- No, this is not the end.)_


	8. My Orange Shirt

**Authors Note: **Thanks for so many reviews. We appreciate them all. But I just gotta say... I'll let you guys know when it's the end. There wont be any room for guessing, so no, this chapter **is not the end.** Still got a lot to cover with Cartman and Wendy, y'know? Not to mention the frog. :)

* * *

**Chapter 8 - My Orange Shirt.**

By evening, Kenny found himself bored at home and decided to give Stan a ring. He was absent today. Surely there was a good reason for that.

"Pick up the damn phone," He mumbled to himself, one finger in his ear to drown out his bickering parents as he walked through the front door and slammed it shut behind him.

"Hello?" Stan finally answered.

"So, did you fuck him?" He asked immediately.

"...Hello Kenny," Stan said in an annoyed tone.

"Where were you today? We were supposed to go ice skating, remember?"

"I know. Sorry." Stan sighed deeply into his end of the phone. "...Kyle's having problems dude."

"Yeah, no shit he's having problems." Kenny ducked, avoiding a glass beer bottle his mother threw out the already broken window. "He needs a blowjob really bad."

"This is serious!" Stan snapped at him. "…He tried to kill himself…"

Kenny began chuckling immediately. "That's funny, dude. We all know you'd jump in front of a moving car before anyone. I just talked to Kyle a few days ago. I told him he was being a dick for calling you a dick. He said he would set things straight."

"Well, apparently his way of doing that was slitting his wrists. _That's_ why we weren't in school today. I told his mom and they took him away to do some tests."

Kenny's amusement faded. "You're serious." He paused a moment. "Shit!"

"I know." Stan sighed; glad Kenny was realizing the serious nature of the situation.

Kenny sunk down onto the ground. "Is he okay? I mean, he didn't really slit his wrists, he only wanted to, right?"

"He did it." Stan said, shuddering as he remembered the events of the night before. "At first, I thought maybe he was just cutting. But then we looked around and found a suicide note in his room...God..." Stan tried to regain himself, not wanting to break down in tears again. He couldn't spare any more fluid.

"What did it say?" Curiosity always did get the better of him.

"Nothing really" Stan admitted. "But apparently he's really heartbroken...And it sucks, cuz it's my fault."

"Yeah, you're right." Kenny agreed. He never spared anyone any grief, not even someone he cared about. "Is he stable?"

"I don't know. I mean I calmed him down, and I'm guessing they'll give him something too, but no one just kills themselves like that you know?...Did you tell him I was dating Wendy or something?"

"Wait... _You_ calmed him down? You were with him when he did it?"

"Yeah..." Stan shut his eyes, shuddering again.

"Are you okay? That must have sucked." He commented.

"I'll be fine. I'm just really worried about him."

Kenny fired more questions, his mind racing with millions of them. "When did you see him last? How did you get him to calm down? And what do you mean, 'did I tell him you were dating Wendy'? _Are_ you?"

"No, but he thought I was. He said in the note he hopes she breaks my heart just as much as I broke his...After I calmed him down, I told his mom what he did and we took him to the hospital for brain tests and stuff. They finally told us to go home. His parents are gonna pick him up tomorrow...I don't know what to do. Obviously I want Kyle to be okay, but I'm not gonna date him if I don't want to."

"So, you don't?"

"I don't think I know what I want yet."

"Dude, that's fucked up." He announced rather loudly. "Why would he think you're dating Wendy when you're not? What have you done?"

"We thought we were getting back together the other day, but we decided it was a bad idea. I told Kyle that, but I don't know if he believed me."

Kenny rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So you broke her heart, too. You really know how to kick 'em when they're down. Remind me to never get involved in your sexual life; I've had enough experience with death."

Stan glared at his phone. "Remind me why you're my friend again, asshole! God..._This_ is why I'm not dating anybody. I keep fucking up relationships that my mind changes its opinion on, and nobody benefits. This is why I'm not fit to date. I need to figure out what I want, and who, and then just...go for that."

"I'm always open. Free rides behind the bleachers at school." Kenny volunteered. "Kyle told me your kisses are orgasmic, I don't mind trying it out first hand." His lips smacked together playfully. "If you can't choose one, don't choose any. If you really love someone, you wouldn't have to think about it."

"...Thanks for the offer." Stan said flatly, before replying to Kenny's secondary, actually useful comments. "I _do_ love Kyle. I just dunno if I'm in love with him. I wouldn't wanna pick him just so he'll stop feeling sad and trying to kill himself. That doesn't help anything if I really don't mean it...He's always gonna be my friend, and right now I just want him to be all right."

"There's your answer," The blonde pointed out gently. "Don't worry about choosing anything, just let it come naturally. Or, if you want to get totally gay about it, listen to your heart. For now, just focus on being his friend. That's what he needs right now more than anything."

Stan nodded, agreeing in his head that Kenny was making sense. "Thanks dude." he said. "When I find out how he's doing, I'll let you know. I haven't told anybody else yet."

"I want to know right away," Kenny demanded. "Hey... speaking of Wendy, _she's _okay, isn't she?"

"Yeah...Well, kinda. I mean _we're_ fine. Still friends and all that...But she made out with Cartman."

Kenny's jaw dropped as he scoffed in disbelief. "Where the hell have I been while all this shit is going down?"

"Beats me. You're all caught up now though."

He ruffled the blonde bangs sticking out of his hood and looked toward his trailer trash home. The fighting had stopped. "Thanks, Stan. You should get updated on Kyle, call me back, okay?"

"'Kay. Later."

Kenny clicked his phone off and shook his head sadly. Stan certainly was a heartbreaker. And a stupid fuck.

---

Yet another day was upon us. Unfortunately, Stan was forced to go to school today. It was just as well though. He didn't know exactly when Kyle was being sent home, and sitting by the phone all day would've been boring and unproductive. After school was out, he headed straight for Kyle's home, figuring he must be out by now. He knocked at the door, still polite despite his urge to see his friend, and waited for someone to let him in.

The door whooshed open rather hurriedly, revealing an extremely tired looking Sheila. "Oh, Stanley," She greeted, sounding a lot more chipper than he knew her to be. "I expected you to be showing up today. I'm glad you did, Kyle's been asking for you all day. You can go on up, he's resting." She stepped aside, allowing access to the inside of the Broflovski home.

"Thanks" Stan replied, heading right inside. "Did they say anything? Is he okay?"

"Yes, he's going to be just fine. A couple days of bed rest so he doesn't get overwhelmed again, and he'll be meeting with a psychologist five days a week until he starts feeling like his old self again."

Stan nodded and smiled. That wasn't so bad at all. He headed up to Kyle's room, anxious to see his friend. Due to his anxiousness, he walked right into Kyle's bedroom without knocking first. "Hey Kyle" he said as he entered.

The Jew's eyes snapped open, seeking and finding the source of noise responsible for waking him from his light sleep. He blinked rapidly, rubbed his lids vigorously, and looked again. Stan was really there.

"Oh. Sorry to wake you. Heh..."

"It's okay," He croaked out, his voice coarse and scratchy from sleep. He sat up, wincing at the pain that shot through his abused arm when he accidentally applied pressure to it.

Stan shut the door and moved closer to his friend. He paused, thinking of what the hell to say in such a delicate situation. He finally went with "I'm glad you're home."

"I'm not." Kyle admitted, sounding more like himself. "They treat me like a prisoner now."

"That sucks." Stan admitted. "Maybe they'll lighten up in a couple days or something."

"I'm not counting on it." He avoided eye contacted, concentrating mostly on the white bandage wrapped around his arm. "You can sit; I'm not going to bite you."

Stan did so, sitting across from his friend on the bed. He attempted a change of subject. "We had a test today."

"Did you actually take it this time, or did you fake nausea again?"

"I took it. I figured if they made you do it when you go back to school I could help you cheat."

A smile broke across his face. "I don't cheat, you know that. I'm sure Cartman wouldn't mind though."

"Yeah really..." Stan returned the smile. "…I didn't tell him."

"You didn't tell him you took the test?"

"No. I mean I didn't tell him about...you know...you..."

Kyle looked back down at his lap, a mixture of shame and sadness wavering through his eyes. "Thanks." He swallowed hard before continuing. "What about Kenny?"

"Yeah, he knows."

He nodded. "I guess you all... think I'm pretty fucked up."

"Well, I can't speak for the other guys," Stan admitted. "...But I don't."

The green orbs of his eyes shot back up, blending with the blue staring back. "You don't?"

"Nah" he assured him. "...You made a mistake, but everyone does that sometimes."

"It wasn't a mistake," Kyle snapped coolly, looking toward his door and back to make sure their weren't any lurking parents.

"...Well you know what I mean. You shouldn't have done it."

His eyes narrowed challengingly. "There's a lot of things people do that they shouldn't. Don't fucking tell me what to do."

"I don't wanna fight." Stan replied simply.

"Then what do you want?" His friend snapped.

Stan frowned a bit. "I wanted to see you. I wanted to make sure you're okay, Kyle. That's why I'm here. Relax."

"You've seen me," he pointed out, not being able to cool his temper. "I'm okay. I'll _be _okay. Now you can go tell Kenny and confirm whatever kind of sick bet you made on me and what condition I'd be in."

"I'd never do that and you know it." Stan replied, offended by the remark but keeping his anger in check.

Kyle sighed, covering his eyes with his hand and leaning back against the pile of pillows. "I'm sorry."

"Me too." Stan said, not wanting the situation to explode again. "If you want, I can let you sleep some more."

"You're leaving?" Kyle's hand fell away from his face to land limply by his side.

"I don't have to. Just if you want me to."

He allowed himself a moment to considerate, not being able to say the truth. _'I want you to stay,' _He thought. _'I want you to lay with me and tell me it's going to be okay. I want you to love me.' _But Stan couldn't hear a word, he simply stared, unknowing.

"You can go," He finally voiced. "I'm still tired. Pain medicine." He lifted his arm, indicating the gash residing beneath the bandage.

Stan nodded. "Okay then." He stood from the bed and moved for the door, only to stop and turn back around.

"Hey, Kyle? ...I...I really want you to be okay..."

The redhead smiled reassuringly, though on the inside felt like screaming. "I'm working on it," He paused. "Stan... thanks for... saving my life. Again."

"Again?" he questioned.

Kyle's smile softened, though it was more genuine this time. "Yeah. There was that time you saved me from that suicidal cult. And the time you tricked fat ass into giving up one of his kidneys so I'd get better."

"Oh yeah." Stan smiled. "I remember the kidney thing...I'd almost forgotten about that cult...Oh, and you're welcome, but it's really no big deal dude. I mean, you'd do the same for me."

He nodded sadly. "Bye, Stan."

Stan turned back toward the door, but didn't move. He glanced at his watch. He just couldn't leave. Not yet at least.

"...You know..." he said, thinking "just because you're tired, it doesn't mean I have to go home. I could go call Kenny. Maybe get some food off your mom...Maybe she'd even let me spend the night."

Relief flooded Kyle like a tidal wave, and though he tried to hide it, he felt his entire body ease up drastically. "You can, if you want."

"Sure!" Stan's smile widened a bit. "I'll go ask if it's cool now. You sleep, and I'll just be downstairs or whatever."

He headed for the door again, this time not walking away nearly as far. "...I'm here as long as you need me Kyle." he added softly, reminding him that they were, in fact, best friends. With those soft, nice words, Stanley headed downstairs to make his plans for the evening.

Kyle settled back down into the mountain of pillows his mom had created for him and sighed contentedly. It was only moments before he fell into a more restful sleep than he had gotten since Cartman's blackmail scheme.

---

Night fell later in the evening. Up in Kyle's bedroom, Stan was working on pumping up an inflatable mattress while Kyle still lied in his own bed. Apparently Stanley was allowed to spend the night.

Kyle opened his eyes, finally waking from his billionth nap that day. At first he was a bit alarmed at the hissing noise filling his room, but soon relaxed when his gaze fell upon Stan.

"Did you talk to Kenny?" He questioned in a sleepy voice.

"Yeah" Stan confirmed back, still working on inflating the mattress. "I said you were fine, and not to tell Cartman anything."

"That was a stupid thing to do," Kyle remarked, forcing himself to sit up so he wouldn't fall asleep again. Staying in bed was boring if you weren't making out with someone. "There's a better chance of him telling Cartman if you tell him not to. If Cartman asks where I've been, he'll say 'Stan told me not to tell you he tried to kill himself,' or some stupid ass shit like that."

"...Aw crap you're right." Stan sighed. "Sorry dude..."

Kyle shrugged, rubbing at his eyes. "It doesn't matter. It's not like he can screw up my life more than he already has. Besides, he's too busy being a crying pussy over Wendy to care about what's going on with me."

"There you go." Stan smiled a bit; happy Kyle was seeing the bright side. "Oh, since I came here right after school, I don't have clothes or nothin' for tomorrow. Is it okay if I borrow some of your stuff?"

"No, you have to sleep naked." He teased, catching himself just a little too late. He hadn't even meant it sexually. He was only being an asshole. "Uh, I mean sure...You know where it is."

"Thanks" Stan replied, now feeling a bit uneasy thanks to Kyle's remark. He ignored it and headed over to Kyle's dresser to pick out his next day's attire.

Kyle picked nervously at his bed sheet. It was going to be hard remembering it wasn't cool to say certain things anymore.

"Stan? Are you only staying over here because you think I'm gonna try to kill myself again if you don't?"

What an honest question. Stan opted for an honest answer.

"No... I _am_ worried about that, but I'm here 'cause I wanna be with you."

Kyle smiled lightly at the comment before turning serious again. "I want you to know that...I thought about things a lot while I was in the hospital, and since I've been stuck in bed. And I'm okay about..." He took a quivery breath, not understanding why he felt like crying again. "About going back to being best friends. I mean, _just _best friends. I've been lost without that, you know... gay as it sounds."

Stan nodded; his focus now more on Kyle than the clothes. "That's good...I thought a lot too, and I just want -you- to know that...I'd never want to hurt you. Ever. And...And I really need you around."

"I can do that," he promised, although his heart protested loudly. He swallowed back a lump of emotion and quickly flipped off his covers. "Need to take a piss," he announced, quickly exiting before Stan could see the tears.

Stan went back to picking out clothes, thinking nothing of Kyle's urge to hit the bathroom after sleeping for several hours. He opted for a plain shirt, jeans, and one of Kyle's duck caps.

Kyle stared at the reflection in the mirror, challenging himself. He couldn't cry. If he did it meant that he just lied to Stan. It meant he _couldn't_ be just friends. The tears were fought off with a splash of cold water and a deep breath. He first pushed open his bedroom door and looked inside unsurely, making certain the water works were gone, at least for now.

"You really like those duck hats." Stan commented, smiling.

He nodded, not feeling capable of returning the smile, slowly easing into the room and allowing the door to creek closed behind him. "You really like those poof-balls hats."

Stanley had no defense for that one. "I can stay up with you a little longer, but then I should turn in. School tomorrow y'know? Are you going?"

The tears glassed his eyes again as he took in Stan's carefree attitude. If he didn't blink, they wouldn't fall, and maybe the oblivious boy wouldn't notice. "I don't know. Depends on my mom…"

"Right... So we're both awake. What do you wanna do?"

"I want...to..." The tears overflowed, spilling over his eyelids without even waiting for a courteous blink.

Stan pouted. Obviously Kyle couldn't hide his emotions forever. Little did he know that Stan hadn't told the whole truth either. Seeing the tears dropping, Stan approached his friend slowly, placing his hands on the other boy's shoulders.

"...Kyle? ...What's wrong?"

"I l-left it there," he choked out. "M-my shirt. The orange one. I forgot it in y-your room."

Stan might've been oblivious, but he was far from stupid. "You're not crying over a shirt...Come on, talk to me," he said, more of a request than a demand.

"I want my shirt back," he insisted, the mewling turning to sobs. "It was my favorite one, a-and now I can never have it back!"

"Sure you can," Stan said, still a bit skeptical of his friend. "I'll bring it over tomorrow."

Kyle shook his head indolently. "I don't want it!"

"You just said you did." Stan's hands moved around Kyle, choosing to embrace the boy in a light hug in hopes that this would comfort him a bit.

Kyle stood limply, tremors wrecking his body. "It's been there too long," He cried. "If you bring it back now, it w-will smell like you!"

Stan could see where he was going with this. He sighed, continuing to hold the boy as he whispered into his ear.

"...I'm scared, Kyle."

Kyle squeezed his eyes closed, the sobs hiccupy although they had calmed some. "I'm sorry I for...forgot it."

"Don't worry about it." Stan assured him. "Shh...It's gonna be okay."

Kyle pulled out of the embrace, not convinced at all. "I'm fine." He sniffled loudly. "You can just burn it."

"...I watched you sleep." Stan blurted out, his tone equally as sad, his emotions becoming just as fragile as Kyle's.

"W-what do you mean?"

"When you were sleeping earlier... I...I watched you sleep. And I just sat there thinking a lot. About you...About us...I know that's what this shirt thing's about..." Stan sighed, fighting back his own tears now. "...Kyle, I...I'm scared. Okay? I'm scared of hurting you. I'm scared of what you'll do if I ever do...That doesn't mean that I don't...that I...don't..."

Now it was Stan's turn to cry.

Kyle's sobs had dulled, now only a sharp, uncontrollable intake of breath every few seconds. This was more normal. Stan was the one who usually cried. So, why did it feel so surreal?

"How can you be scared of something you've already done?" He questioned honestly.

Stan sniffled. "B-because you've never acted like this before...Because...Because I can't risk you doing that again..." Stan brought a hand to his face, wiping his cheeks free of still-falling tears. He decided to complete his previous thought. "I'm scared, but that doesn't mean that I don't...l-love you..."

"I'm not doing this so you'll love me, Stan. That isn't love." The tears were stinging again. God damnit. "I can't help it. I'm not going to hurt myself. You'll just come riding in on your white horse and save me again, anyways. But I can't promise I'll be okay. I can't because I'm ...not okay with any of it."

Stan calmed himself. He was happy to hear that Kyle wouldn't attempt to hurt himself again, at least. Obviously though, they couldn't communicate when they were both emotional like this. Stan dried his eyes and took his turn to speak.

"I-I know you're not doing this so I'll love you." Stan told him. "I just...do."

The teardrops decided to cooperate this time, dripping off Kyle's eyelashes with every blink. His chin felt to his chest as he murmured, "Not the right way."

Stan shook his head. "Like I said Kyle, I watched you sleep...I thought a lot...I thought what might happen to me if you had...died...And… And I'm really glad you don't wanna hurt yourself again because...I can't live without you. That's what I figured out...You're what I want Ky..."

"God damnit, Stan!" He exploded with another burst of tears. "Don't fucking tell me that when we both know you're just going to change your mind again!"

"_That's _why I'm scared!" he admitted defensively. "I know what I want now. I know who I want. You! You're the most important thing, the most important person in my life. I'd be lost without you Kyle." He sighed, composing himself yet again. "...I don't want to hurt you again..."

"...But you might." He finished downheartedly.

"Not anytime soon, but it's possible." Stan also looked downward now. "And if I did, I'm afraid of what might happen...It's a pretty big risk to take..."

Kyle reached his hand out, touching Stan's arm only briefly before snapping back, almost as if the touch had burned. "That's not love, Stan." He spoke gingerly, though he could feel his heart breaking all over again. "I know I would never hurt you, because I _know _I love you. And I know because... I don't have to question it. I have no doubts. If you do... then it's just... pity."

Stan considered this a long moment before speaking again. Kyle was right, as usual. Stanley should've known better than to debate such a smart guy. If Stan truly loved Kyle, he wouldn't hurt him. Not now, or in ten years, or ever.

"...I don't question it." he finally spoke again. "...You know what this means right?"

"We have to stop talking again." Kyle whispered, head hung low.

Stan approached Kyle again, cupping the boy's cheeks in his palms.

"No...If you love me, and I love you, we don't have a choice..."

Stan nervously leaned in, pressing his lips to Kyle's.

Kyle felt his stomach flip flop, an all too familiar sensation, having had lots of kissing time with Stan previously. He placed his hands firmly on his friend's hips, allowing the contact, although a pang of fear lay conscious in the back of his mind as more tears fell.

Stan parted the kiss, staring into Kyle's eyes with their bodies still only inches apart.

"...I sure hope you love me Kyle...Because now you're gonna be stuck with me...Forever..." He smiled.

He returned the smile, all hurt seeping out as he pulled Stan in for another kiss.

"Stan?" He breathed between kisses.

"Mm-hmm?" Stan asked in a passionate mid lip-lock.

"I want my god damn shirt back."

* * *

_-KyleisGod & BratChild3_


	9. Special Therapy

**Authors Note: **Not the end. This is my favorite chapter, I think . :)

* * *

**Chapter 9- Special Therapy**

At school the next day, Cartman selected Kenny as his company during the lunch period, hoping it will help him get back to being a man and away from the drama that is his relationship to Wendy Testaburger. A giant banner informed everyone inside the cafeteria that a school dance was coming up. As the two friends ate together, Eric wrapped up a story he was telling his pal.

"So I said 'Fuck you, your grandma was dead when I got there!' you know?"

Kenny laughed heartily. "What a stupid ass."

"Totally," Eric ate some tater tots. "So anyway, how's shit with you?"

"I'm eating lunch, how the hell do you think shit is?" He asked around a full mouth, already muffled by his parka.

Eric looked around as he chewed. "God dammit, where the hell are the other guys? I haven't seen them in like two days now."

Kenny scratched his head through his hood, as if that would actually accomplish something as his eyes scanned the cafeteria. "Oh yeah," he finally spoke, shoving french fries between his teeth. "Stan told me not to tell you Kyle tried to kill himself. Dying's never stopped me from coming to school, so Kyle must just be a pussy."

Cartman dropped his fork, his eyes going wide.

"Come again? Kyle...Kyle tried to kill himself? For real?"

"Uh-huh." Kenny's eyes never left his tray. "He even turned it into a chick flick by leaving a suicide note and everything. Course Stan's the one who got the knife away from him."

Cartman paused, shocked. "Oh my god... That… That is SO AWESOME!"

"How the hell is that awesome?" Kenny's eyebrows furrowed. "I've done better than that, and you never thought it was awesome."

"Kyle's not like you, dumbass! His death would be permanent! Man, I always knew he was fucked up, but suicidal? Oh, god that just makes it all the sweeter when I rip on him now."

"Dude, that's not cool." His voice was serious. "This is all your fault in the first place. He almost died because of you. Don't you feel at least a little guilty?"

"What? How is it my fault that Kyle's a pussy?"

"You made Stan rip his heart out and stomp on it, you fucking bastard!" He raved. "How the hell would you like it if Kyle made Wendy do that to you?"

"I didn't _make _Stan do anything. I simply got information. Stan's the one who..." He paused again. "Wh...What did you say about Wendy?"

"You heard me." Kenny insisted. "Maybe someone should give you a dose of your own medicine. I think I might ask Wendy to the dance. She does have a hot ass."

Cartman glared at him. "For your information, it's not even like that with Wendy...And if you do ask her I'll fucking cut you!"

The blonde looked up in consideration. "I get to feel up Wendy, and all I have to do is let you cut me. Mmmm... Okay." He casually went to work on his pudding.

"You know what I mean, asshole. Who the hell told you I was dating Wendy?"

"I have a sixth sense about these things."

"Whatever. Look, I'm not dating Wendy, and Kyle's suicide is not mah fault."

"So she's open. Woo hoo!" He cheered. "Did you see the skirt she was wearing today?" A low, long whistle escaped him. "I hope she wears it when I ask her out...Will make things easier, if you know what I mean."

Cartman glared angrily at his friend, although the talk of Wendy's skirt did intrigue him. "Wendy would never date you. Everybody knows you're a little tri-sexual slut."

"And she's a ho. You said so yourself. It's only fate we hook up." He smiled devilishly, knowing full well he was striking Cartman's weak spot. "You gonna go see Kyle today?"

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. Where is the stupid Jew?"

"He tried to kill himself! He's on house arrest, you fucking dumb shit!"

"Well he coulda been in the hospital or something! I'm the last to know this for fuck's sake! Gimme a break!"

"You never give anyone else a break, so why should I give you one now?" He snatched a piece of bread off Cartman's tray. "You're a selfish bastard Cartman. You don't care about anyone but yourself. That's the reason Kyle's attempted suicide is your fault, that's why him and Stan aren't here right now, that's why you chasing Wendy is a lost cause."

Cartman slammed his fist on the table. "God dammit, I am SICK of hearing that! I am not that selfish! Not more than anybody else! I do so care about other people, I just show it differently! And gimme back my bread, asshole!!"

Kenny fought, keeping hold of the bread as Cartman pulled on it, finally ripping it in half. Kenny held it up tauntingly and shoved it into his mouth. "I was in the girls bathroom yesterday and heard Wendy talking."

Cartman's interest was peaked. Still, Kenny could've been bluffing. He wasn't above going in the girl's bathroom, but what were the odds Wendy would be in there at the time?

"Bullshit. What'd she say then?"

"Can't tell you what she said happened between her and Stan. You might cry like a pussy." He assured. "She said she needed to apologize to you, and she hoped she didn't screw things up. She did say you're a selfish, arrogant, asshole, though. Thought it was a nice touch."

"...That's old news. Stan's a fag and they're done. You're lying."

Kenny sighed, sick of playing around. "You really want to know what she said?"

Cartman tried to read his friend. He hated when they screwed with him like this. He never could quite tell if Kenny was full of shit thanks to that parka. It made his 'poker face' of sorts easier to hide. Too interested in the topic of Wendy recently to ever say no, Cartman replied with a "Yes."

"She said her and Stan almost went all the way, and now she owes him her life for stopping it before it was too late, because she would have just thought of you the entire time. She said she realizes she doesn't care anymore that you don't care about her. She said she loves you anyway, and if she has to take a broken heart all the time because you're a selfish, arrogant, asshole, she was still willing to take the chance, because she thinks she loves you."

Eric was stunned to say the least. He blinked a few times, staring at Kenny as he awaited some big punch line. It never came. Feeling Kenny was being completely honest with him as he was known to be, Cartman finally replied.

"...She...She really said she loves me?"

"Through the whole conversation, and that's a long ass time when girls talk. She said it seven times. I counted."

"Whoa." Cartman sipped at some milk. "That's...different...No one's ever really loved me before..."

"Yeah, I know." Kenny agreed, this time making a swipe for Eric's extra chocolate milk.

Eric picked at his food, no longer caring that Kenny's poor ass was taking what his cash had paid for in the lunch line.

"Everybody's wrong about me." he said, talking more to himself than his dirty blond associate. "I do too have feelings and stuff."

"A rumble in your stomach is just _a_ feeling, it isn't an _emotion_." Kenny reminded him before happily sipping away on his newly conned treat.

"I'll show you," Cartman said determinedly. "I'll show everybody."

---

There was a damn good reason Stan wasn't at school. He was still at Kyle's house. More specifically, he was lying next to Kyle in the boy's bed, his visibly bare chest pressed to Kyle's visibly bare back as they cuddled together on their sides with the covers pulled up over the rest of their bodies. Stan smiled and placed a kiss on Kyle's neck.

"I really _do_ have to go to school tomorrow..." he remarked softly.

Kyle turned beneath the covers to face Stan, placing a hand to his cheek. "No, you don't." He insisted. "You caught something and you're going to be in bed all day."

Stan smirked. "But if I'm sick, your mom won't want me around you."

"If she walked in right now, she wouldn't want you around me." Kyle pointed out, letting his hand coast downward to rest in the curve of Stan's waist.

"Thank God for working parents." he said, his own hand traveling under the covers to rub Kyle's oh-so-sexy butt.

Their playful touching didn't last long however, as someone turned the knob and walked right in on them after all. It wasn't one of Kyle's parents, but it might've been even worse. It was Cartman.

"Kyle," he said as he opened the door. "We need to talk right n- …AWW!"

"Cartman, you asshole!" He yelped, now standing on the opposite side of the bed, clutching a sheet in terror. "I thought you were my mom, that's not cool!"

Cartman's eyes shut in equal terror, turning his back to them and shutting the door. "Well I didn't think you'd be...AW! For fuck's sake y'guys! Seriously!"

Stan stood as well, grabbing desperately at his pants. "What do you want Cartman?" he asked, annoyed.

"Not to have seen that!"

"I hope it gives you nightmares, and no amount of therapy will ever make it better!" Kyle wished out loud, the color finally returning to his face.

"You're one to talk about therapy, razor boy. _That's _why I'm here god dammit."

"It wasn't a razor, it was a god damn-" He cut himself off, eyes snapping to Stan. "Did you tell him? You said you wouldn't!"

"I didn't," Stan admitted honestly. How could he? He was with Kyle all night, obviously.

"Kenny told me all right? Look, I just wanna talk to Kyle alone for a minute."

"So you can finish what I started?" He questioned. "Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Stan. We're dressed, lard boy, you can turn your hippo ass around."

Cartman did turn, sighing. "I don't wanna say this in front of Stan. This is private."

"So was what we were doing but you barged in anyway!" Stan pointed out. "And how'd you get in here?"

"I picked the lock. It's practice for this thing I'm doing. Look, just five minutes. I promise I'll be cool."

The Jew looked to Stan, contemplating before speaking. "I'll talk to him. Go get a glass of ice water and a cup of hot tea, and I'll show you a trick when you get back." He smiled secretively.

Cartman put his hands over his ears. "LALALA! I'm not hearing this!"

"Kay," Stan smiled at him. "Later then...Five minutes, fat boy." Stan warned sternly, before kissing Kyle's cheek and heading downstairs, past Cartman.

Kyle breathed in a deep breath, feeling a little unnerved and still not quite like his old self. "Okay, Stan's gone. Now what the hell could you possible have to say to me that's personal?"

Cartman took a deep breath of his own, composing his thoughts before he talked.

"First of all, I think what you did sucks. It was selfish, it was stupid, and I've lost whatever ounce of respect I may have had for you for being such a pussy who can't deal with life's problems...But..."

Kyle glowered, holding his tongue out of pure curiosity.

Cartman continued. "I know I haven't made your life very easy the last...well, since birth...And I just wanted to say that if anything I said or did maybe made you wanna do it, then...I'm...well you know..."

Kyle's death glare had softened. Saying he was shocked was sorely lacking, but he wasn't about to have Cartman apologize by getting away without apologizing at all. "No, I don't know."

Cartman glared. "Yes you do. You just want me to say it."

"If you can't say it, you don't mean it." Kyle stated, crossing his arms sternly.

"...I hate you. You know that? I fucking hate you, Kyle. H-A-T-E Y-O-U! HATE YOU!! You're a stupid, whiny, god damn fag Jew, and I hope you burn in hell!" He started to mutter, adding quietly to the end of the statement. "...And I'm sorry..."

"Apology not accepted." He snapped. "I know you, Cartman. You aren't apologizing because you feel bad, or you're afraid I might do it again. You're apologizing because you have an underlying scheme."

"My 'scheme' is that everybody thinks I'm some heartless prick! I'm just trying to show them that they're all wrong. Think about it, Kyle. If I were happy about you being suicidal, it would mean I want you dead. If I wanted you dead, I'd have killed you myself years ago and fed you to your parents."

Kyle frowned worriedly. "That's fucked up." The remark was laced with disbelief. "Why the hell do you care if everyone thinks you're a heatless prick, which you are, when you never were before?"

"Because I like someone," he admitted. "And their opinion matters to me...Look, dude, just don't slit your wrists again all right? If you died, I couldn't keep making fun of you...Heh..."

A smile twitched Kyle's mouth. "I _would_ miss cracking all those fat jokes."

Cartman smiled back. "Okay then. I've said my peace. I'll leave now...Oh and one more thing..." He glared at the Jew, his tone becoming quite dark and serious. "If you tell anyone what was said here, you know what I'll do."

"Don't worry; no one would believe me anyway." He shrugged. "Now get the hell out before Stan comes back, because I won't wait for you to leave."

Cartman nodded, feeling they had an understanding. "Sick fucks," he said as he headed out of Kyle's room, bidding goodbye to the returning Stan on his way out.

Kyle closed the door behind the foul mouthed bastard and turned toward Stan, confirming he had gotten what was asked of him. "Is it hot?" He nudged toward the cup of tea.

"Yep," Stan said, holding out both cups. "What's the trick?"

Kyle took both cups and set them carefully on his side table, then motioned Stan over. Once he had the blue-eyed boy in his possession, he began to explain. "First," He paused to nip lightly at Stan's lower lip. "I get you hot and hard." He moved his mouth downward, applying a sucking motion to the sensitive skin on his "toys" neck. "... And then I get my mouth steamy and hot with the tea," He broke away only long enough to unzip Stan's pants before delving in for another kiss. "And I start sucking you off." He fell to his knees, rubbing his fingertips across the sensitive bend in his friend's knees. "And when you're about to cum," Stan's pants fell away with a rough jerk. "I stop." His tongue flicked over Stan's belly button. "After I get my mouth icy cold with the water, I'll start again. But the coldness will make you slightly numb and prolong the release." He looked up finally, smiling as he finished his intelligent explanation. "Once I decide to stop teasing you like an asshole, you'll be too weak to get out of bed."

Stanley looked down at Kyle, smiling widely as he ruffled the boy's red hair, his dick already growing hard from the explanation "Good trick," he commented, deciding not to ask his lover how he learned about this in the first place.

---

Cartman stood in the school hallway, glancing around the corner at Wendy's locker. It was too bad he was about to win her over. He had come to like their talks. It was an emotional roller coaster every time, but it sure made school more fun. He strolled confidently around the corner and walked up behind Wendy, taking a moment to admire her posterior before speaking in a mocking, singsong voice.

"I know something you don't know."

Her expression registered shock at the unexpected voice, but she didn't turn around as she continued arranging her books in order of big to little. She didn't want him to sense her eagerness at talking to him again. "I seriously doubt that." She retorted.

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to show you. Follow me."

"Jesus Christ, not again..." She huffed, but slammed her locker and complied. "Last time I followed you anywhere led in disaster."

Cartman led her down the hallway, removing a small screwdriver from his pocket. "You'll be sorry you said that," he remarked, quite sure of himself. "Besides, as I recall, you quite enjoy following me around."

She refused to comment, knowing he had her trapped. "Where are we going, and how much detention time are you going to get for it?"

"None, because I'm not getting caught. Watch the door." Cartman stopped his guided tour at the biology lab room, sticking the screwdriver end inside the lock.

"I'm afraid to ask where you've picked up this skill." She commented, indicating his lock-picking ability.

"Practice" he smirked. He listened carefully as he turned the screwdriver inside the lock, hearing a snap. He grabbed the doorknob and turned it, successfully opening the door. "You know those frogs you don't want dissected?"

"How can I forget? It's a conspiracy."

Cartman blinked. "...Right. Well anyway, they aren't gonna die now." Cartman headed inside the classroom, sure Wendy would follow him. The frogs in question were sitting on a shelf, enclosed safely in a case.

She looked from Cartman, to the case and back again. "Are you going to... free them?"

Eric shuddered, his hands starting to slowly brush at his coat. "Yes..."

"But _why_? You don't care about what happens to them."

"But you do," he began, his hands brushing even quicker now. "Ugh...So dirty..."

She watched him blankly before a small smile drew up her face. He was actually doing something for _her_ and obviously it was making him uncomfortable. Afraid she would piss him off if she pried; she let him off the hook. "Where do we take them?" She asked, pressing her hands and nose to the glass to peer at them.

Cartman shrugged, stopping his brushing of the invisible dirt to pick up the case of animals. "I don't know. Outside? I'm not used to being a dirty hippie like this. Where would you put them?"

Her smile immediately turned to a frown. He certainly knew how to make a nice gesture into something she almost wished he never did in the first place. "Starks pond is where I let the first of them go." She answered softly, almost feeling stupid for doing it now. "They couldn't survive anywhere else."

"Okay...Oh, and don't worry. The teacher won't be doing any more dissections."

"How do you know that?" She held the door open for him to pass through with the case of frogs.

Cartman smirked, heading back out into the hallway. "On our way out, go into the detention closet. _That's_ how I know."

She frowned in puzzlement, allowing the door to swing closed behind her as she followed him out. "What did you do?"

"Nothing" he assured her as they walked toward the nearest possible exit, going the way of the detention hall so Wendy could see the next big surprise. "...Well?"

She shot him a weary, untrusting look before making her way inside and opening the door to the closet. Inside was a bound and gagged man in a suit, who appeared quite happy someone had finally opened the door. Resting atop that man, lying limply, was Clyde Frog. The man groaned through the tape over his mouth, looking up at Wendy for assistance.

Her mouth formed a little 'o' of surprise. Normally she would have helped the poor man and delved right into lecturing Cartman about morals. Normally. But, this man refused to stop killing innocent creatures, and further still failed to even hear her side of things. A low, almost manic laugh consumed her, the quiet snickering soon turning into full blown laughs.

Cartman smiled outside the room upon hearing her laugh. It was a good laugh, and it meant she approved of his plan. "I told you!" he called inside to her. "I doubt he's gonna fuck with frogs again after this."

She slammed the closet door closed again, first flipping the teacher off, and retraced her steps out to Cartman, still laughing. "I'll never get over the expression on his face!"

"Heh, yeah I know." He walked with her, waiting for her laughter to calm down before he spoke again. "Hey, you know, there's that dance coming up."

"Oh, right," She mused, finally getting her amusement under control.

"...You wanna go or something?" Cartman was obviously quite the romantic.

"I was supposed to go with Stan," she admitted. "But I don't think that's still going to happen. I'll probably just stay home, unless you're asking if I'll go _with_ you."

"...Well, I usually just skip those things. There's really no point in going to a dance unless you have someone to dance with...I suppose we _could _go together. If you wanted...Of course, people would talk."

"And what would they say?" She pressed.

"Well you know. They'll see you with me and me with you...They might make fun of us...You know...They might say we're like, boyfriend and girlfriend or something..."

She used her back to push and hold open the main exit door of the school. "Maybe I want them to think that."

Cartman grinned as he headed outside of the building with her. "You do huh? Why?"

She looked up thoughtfully, smiling as she shrugged. "When people talk, they're usually right. If they said you were my boyfriend, maybe it would be true."

Cartman's grin grew wider. "And maybe that wouldn't be so bad," he said in agreement.

She released the door, falling into step beside him. "So let them talk, and we can find out."

"Kewl...But don't you have something else to say to me?"

She placed a finger to her chin. "Thank you for stealing the frogs?" She asked, palms turned upward in question.

"Uh-huh...But say it like you mean it."

Wendy grasped the material of his shirt sleeve, stopping him in his tracks to lean in and kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Cartman." She cooed and continued on her way.

With a large triangular grin, Cartman followed the girl to the pond to free the frogs, a lot happier about being a temporary hippie following Wendy's show of gratitude.

---

Lunch time once again rolled around. Stan again decided to eat with Kenny, as Kyle wasn't yet back at school.

"When's Kyle coming back?" Kenny's question was mixed with the delightful sight of a chewed ham and cheese sandwich occupying more than half his mouth.

"He's supposed to be back tomorrow," Stan confirmed. "They finally worked out his therapy schedule."

Kenny nodded. "You've been over there a lot. What kind of therapy are _you _giving him?"

Stan blushed slightly. "That's none of your business."

"That's what I thought." Kenny declared. His index finger slowly skimmed the top of his soda can and he allowed his merriment to settle into a frown. "I've been feeling kinda shitty lately. Think you can come over tonight and...help me work things out?" He was glad his hood hid his smile.

"No," Stan said without hesitation. "For one thing, Kyle had a serious problem. For another we're back together, and that actually means something to us."

"What, like a commitment or something?" Kenny frowned at the thought.

"Right. I took your advice, dude. I listened to my heart."

Kenny looked down at his food, blinked, then looked back at his blue-eyed friend. "Wow. I just thought you guys were screwing around. You know, literally. I didn't think it was anything that serious."

"Well it is. Now anyway...I'm even thinking about going to prom with him."

"Huh? Dude, you can't just go to prom with him!"

"I know, people will say stuff. But I think if we're gonna really be serious about this, maybe we _should_ just come out. Or at least think about it."

"Right, and who's going to wear the pretty dress?" Sarcasm laced the words. "Last month you were in love with Wendy, two weeks ago you were in love with her and Kyle, a few days ago you didn't know what the hell you wanted, and now you're doing this? You're an indecisive bastard, Stan."

Stan shook his head. "I used to be. Kyle's what I want now. I'm sure of it."

"You'd better be, before pulling a stunt like that." He shook his head in disbelief. "Sure it's not just sympathy because he tried to kill himself? That happens, you know."

"Oh, I'm sure dude." Stan ate some of his food. "See, my first night over there, Kyle was sleeping a lot. I sat there for hours just watching him and thinking about everything. It was actually really good. It gave me a chance to clear my head and really think about what I wanted. You know?"

"No," Kenny answered honestly, now playing with his food instead of eating it, a rare moment indeed.

"Oh. Well anyway, I figured out what I wanted, and Kyle had all of that."

"He must be a pro at sucking, with all the matzo ball soup he slurps." He chuckled at the thought.

Stan buried his face in his food, his blush growing from Kenny's true statement. "That's not the first thing on my list," he said in defense of his relationship.

"Uh-huh." Kenny punched his shoulder playfully. "If you wanna go to the dance with him, go for it. People will talk for a day or maybe a week and then it'll get boring and you guys can make out in the school halls and no one will know the difference."

"Yeah...I'll talk to him about it later...Don't worry though. You're a really...um...popular guy. I'm sure you can find someone else to mess around with."

He smiled secretively. "I've got a few people in mind, unless you wanna ask Kyle if he's into threesomes."

Stan laughed. "I don't think so."

"Then you'll just have to keep each other satisfied, which I'm sure won't be too hard from the shade of your blush." He stuffed the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth as he stood. "I should probably start seducing before I run out of candidates for a date. Maybe I'll find someone that'll put an end to my pimping ways."

"Heh. Someday, maybe...Hey Ken?" Stan asked curiously. "...Have uh...Have you ever heard of the tea trick?"

Kenny's head snapped from Bebe, who was sporting an extremely short skirt, to Stan. "Heard of it? I practically invented it."

"Oh...S-so you've used it on guys then?"

His attention now fully aroused, he plopped back down and folded his arms across the table-top. "It would be damn near impossible on a girl. You want me to try it on you, is that what this is all about?"

"No!" Stan said quickly. "I was just- ...Forget it. You have a date to find."

"If they're all taken, I'll steal someone else's. I find I can be very persuasive." He insisted. "If you don't want a sample, then what do you want?"

Stan cleared his throat, staring down at his food. "I was just wondering if you and Kyle ever...?"

"He tried it on you." Kenny didn't even bother to voice it in the form of a question.

"...Y-yeah..."

His eyebrows arched in higher interest. "How'd he do?"

"So you did teach him. Okay, I just wanted to know."

Kenny nodded. "Don't be jealous, Stan."

"I'm not." he assured him. "Kyle knows about my past. It's good I know about his too, I guess...Besides, now I know who to thank...Heh..."

Kenny's smile widened. "Just wait until he tries the other tricks."

Stan went wide-eyed. "...Other...O-other tricks? ...Oh, god..."

"I know, huh?" Kenny snickered. "The tea trick is the mild one."

"Jesus..." Stan muttered, hoping he could handle whatever else Kyle might've had in store. "Okay. I just wanted to know where the hell he picked that up. Thanks."

"I never touched him, in case you're wondering."

"Huh? What, you mean… all the way?"

"In any way." Kenny clarified. "I tried, but he wouldn't let me. Remember when I told you he said your kisses were orgasmic?"

"Yeah."

"He wasn't boasting, Stan, he was depressed. It was after you broke it off with him, he was talking to me a lot. He was saying how good you were at... everything. He knew you must have practiced a lot with Wendy, and that she must be good at it, too. He thought maybe that's why you didn't want him anymore, because he wasn't good at it. So I _explained_ different tricks to him, ranging from kissing to...all the way. He thought that if he could show you _he _could be good at it that you would want him again."

"...Wow..."

Stan was floored by the news. He wouldn't have minded so much if his two friends _had _screwed around. At least he knew and liked Kenny. But to go through all that just for him? That's saying something. Of course Stan knew his relationship with Kyle went deeper than sex. He was going to be sure Kyle knew it too, if he didn't already.

"Thanks for telling me dude...And thanks so much for taking care of him when things were messed up...And...Well...Just thanks...You're a really good guy," he said sincerely.

Kenny's smile brightened. "Anything for you two." He stood a second time, his eyes scanning around the room. "You seen Wendy?"

"No," he admitted. "But I saw the biology teacher tied up in the detention closet earlier. So she's probly involved in that somehow."

"Kinky," He mused. "I was thinking about charming her a little. Maybe I can take her to the dance." He flashed a smile though only his squinted eyes were an indication. "See ya."

* * *

_BratChild3 & KyleisGod_


	10. All the Swiss Cheese

**Authors Note: **There's like... A lot on prom night in this, so this chapter has part and the rest will be continued because long chapters are eyesores to me. I cant stand it. Just so you know there's more on prom night after this chapter.

Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

**Chapter 10- All the Swiss Cheese.**

After a busy day of going to school and yet again visiting Kyle, Stan lazily plopped down on the bed in his room. He picked up the phone on his night stand and dialed up the Testaburger house, wanting to get his last errand out of the way for the night.

Wendy had been sitting at her vanity table, brushing out her shiny hair when the phone rang. She quickly tossed the brush to the carpet and grabbed the phone before her parents could. "Hello?"

"Hey Wendy," Stan said into the receiver.

"Stan!" She exclaimed, a little more enthusiastic than she originally intended. "Hi."

He smiled a bit, glad she was still happy to hear from him after he basically dumped her twice. "How's it going?"

"Good." She answered honestly. "Cartman helped me free the frogs from the biology room."

Stan blinked. He put a finger in his ear a minute to check for wax, positive he'd heard her incorrectly. "He did? Whoa. How much did that cost you?"

She held back her laughter. "Nothing. I didn't even know he was going to do it until he did it."

"Really? Huh. That's cool I guess...I'm doing good too. Kyle's getting better and everything."

She nodded, forgetting the fact he couldn't see her. "I heard about what happened. I wanted to go see him, but I didn't know if... I wasn't sure how he would react if any of it had to do with me."

"I know," he said understandingly. "It's cool though. His mom's got him in therapy and he said he wouldn't do it again...He's coming back to school tomorrow, and we're even thinking about prom."

"... Are you guys seeing each other again?"

"Yeah...Actually, that's why I'm calling...I uh, I know we kinda said we'd do the prom together, but um...you know..."

"I know," She spoke soothingly. "I already figured it was off, whether or not you were with anybody else. I never would have believed it would be like this a month ago. I had even bought a dress already."

"Oh. Well dude don't let that stop you from going or anything...I know Kenny wants to take you."

"Kenny?" She parroted incredulously.

"Well, he's an option at least."

"I already have a date, I'm going with Cartman." She confessed.

"...Really?" He snickered a bit. "Have fun then."

"What's so funny?" She demanded bitterly.

"Oh, nothing. It's just...Well the idea of you and Cartman..."

She twirled the top of a lotion pump. "Yeah...I...guess it's a pretty stupid idea, huh?"

"Maybe not" Stan admitted, his tone returning to a serious one. "As much as we hate to think of him like this, Cartman _is _human. He likes girls and stuff. He's just not exactly the perfect prom date. I mean, you guys can't go a day without insulting each other."

"Despite that, I really like him." She nearly laughed at her own words, though it would have been mirthless and dry. "I just... don't know if it's really worth the risk. You know Cartman, you know him better than me. What if he's only taking me as part of a scheme to humiliate me?"

Stan shrugged. "If he is, I'll kick his ass for you. If you really like him though, for whatever strange reason that might be, I think you should take the risk."

She bit her lower lip, contemplating it. "But what if... I take the risk too far?"

"What do you mean?"

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Can I tell you something seriously, without you laughing at me?"

"Yeah," Stan assured her. He could tell she was quite serious about this.

"I haven't really...been around Cartman that much. You know, not fighting. I've only kissed him twice, but both times have kind of gotten out of hand. The first time wasn't so bad because I left right away, but the second time moved onto touching and...the thing that scares me is I didn't want to stop. That's never happened to me before, not even with you." She paused. "Correction; I have wanted to with you, but my thoughts were in order and I knew what I was thinking. I could stop it. With him, I can't."

Stan went silent, taking a moment to both take in the information and not laugh as he'd promised. "Passion is like that sometimes," Stan finally spoke. "Let's put it this way. When you kissed Cartman, it wasn't your first kiss right?"

"Are you _really _asking me that?" She hissed.

"I'm being rhetorical. What I mean is you liked kissing Cartman, but it doesn't mean you regretted kissing me before. You don't regret kissing me, or at least I hope not, because it's what you really wanted to do at the time. If you and Cartman end up...doing stuff...it'll be because you really want to. And if it doesn't work out and you find someone else you wanna do stuff with, you still shouldn't feel bad cuz at the time it was really special to you and stuff."

She frowned. "But don't _you _regret being with me?"

"No. Should I?"

"No," She paused. "No, I mean, I just figured you thought I was a lost cause. A waste of time of sorts."

"Huh? Wendy, I'd never think that about you. You're my friend. Things just didn't work out for us, but that doesn't make what we had any less important or memorable...It made us who we are you know?"

She sighed again, this time out of relief. "You can be such an asshole sometimes, Stan, but you have the kindest heart."

"...Thanks?"

She smiled secretly before letting it pass again. "I guess you're right. I wouldn't have any regrets if I just followed my heart, even if things didn't work out. But I would regret it if I did anything stupid and found out Cartman was just getting revenge."

"Totally. Following your heart's the best advice I've gotten about love...You've always been a smart girl though. If I know you, you won't go to bed with Cartman until you're absolutely sure...And like I said, if he fucks you over I'll kick his ass."

Her smile returned, full bloom. "Thanks, Stan."

"You're welcome. Good luck."

"You too," She replied. "Oh, and... Tell Kyle I'm glad he's doing better."

"I will." Stan smiled. "Maybe we'll see you guys at prom."

"Can I have a dance with you?"

Stan hadn't expected that, but saw no harm in it. It would certainly make him appear straight, if he and Kyle decided to remain closet cases. "Sure, why not?"

"I'm holding you to that." She warned. "Was there anything else you were calling for?"

"Not really...Oh, I guess if you know anyone that would wanna go with Kenny..."

She shook her head, mentally scanning all her friends. "Sorry to say the entire female population of South Park High knows about Kenny and his... conquests. No one is going to want to go with him."

"Oh well." Stan said, not caring too much about his hound of a friend and his self-destroyed reputation. "Guess I'll see you later then."

"I love you," She froze. "Uh, I guess old habits really do die hard." She apologized. "Goodnight."

Stan smiled, forgiving her slip of the tongue. "Later." He hung up.

Wendy closed her eyes, clicking her phone off slowly. She still missed Stan, to some extent. Her lashes fluttered open again reluctantly, and she crawled into bed a shut out the light. Sleep came with a smile, all thoughts filled amazingly...

of Cartman.

---

Kyle was back in school the next day, and there was much rejoicing! He and Stan had lunch alone together for the first time in a while. Kenny was off trying to find a date and Cartman was off not wanting to be around the lovey-dovey queers.

"I don't know why I wanted to come back so much." Kyle spoke now, his eyes coasting the cafeteria. "School sucks ass."

"True," Stan took a bite of food. "But your friends are here and you don't have to stay in bed all day. How's your therapy going?"

"I've never met anyone gayer in my life." He stated ironically. "This guy is a total pussy. He's always wanting me to tell him my god damned feelings. I never even tell _you _all my feelings. He pretends like he wants to be my best friend, but I know in reality he just wants money."

"Yeah, they're supposed to gain your trust and shit. Doesn't he know we're men? We don't talk about feelings...At least it's your parent's money being wasted."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Anything to keep from getting locked up. But, you know, I guess it is helping a little bit. He _is _helping me understand how to better cope with things and stupid crap like that."

"That's good...You want some peas?"

Kyle pulled a gag face and scooted away. "I don't want any of this," He indicated his tray, which hadn't been touched. "I miss Chef."

Stan nodded, choking down his school lunch. "Yeah. Why'd he have to retire?"

"Because he's smart." Kyle pointed out, jabbing his plastic fork into something thick, sticky, and orange on his tray and hitting the handle with his fist, causing the goo to fly up and hit the front of Stan's shirt. Kyle immediately pointed and began laughing.

Stan grinned, flipping his lover off before grabbing a napkin to clean himself. "Jerk..."

"Did Kenny ever find a date?" He asked around snickers as he watched Stan rub the goo into an orange, rainbow shaped stain.

"I don't think so. His fault though."

"Yeah, I guess so. But I still can't help but feel sorry for the guy."

"Yeah," Stan said, thinking back to what Kenny told him about his partner. "He's a nice guy sometimes...We'll just make sure to hang out with him a lot during prom. Keep him company you know?"

Kyle nodded, finally giving up on his food and settling for his carton of chocolate milk. "Unless he starts touching or groping, and then he's on his own."

"Right...So you _do_ wanna go to prom then?"

He shrugged. "Sure, I mean, we've always gone to these stupid school dances, right? We'll just have to get there sooner this time, before fat ass eats all the food again."

"Cool." He smiled and ate some more. After swallowing, Stan continued. "Are you sure you can handle it though? If we dance, which is kinda the point, people are gonna know. I don't care, but I don't wanna force you out or anything."

Kyle's slurping on his straw came to a halt. "Dance?" He repeated, the straw disturbing his speech before he yanked it out. "Whoa, no one said -_anything_- about -_me_- dancing."

Stan blinked. "Well, dude it's the prom. We have to dance a little."

Kyle shook his head vigorously. "I'm sorry, Stan. I know you're used to going with Wendy and you're used to dancing. But, I'm used to going and screwing around with Kenny and Cartman. I can't dance, Jews have no rhythm."

Stan took another bite of food. "Well, like I said, I don't wanna make you do something you don't wanna do. We could just hang out, or I could try to teach you to dance or something. Your choice..."

Kyle looked downward, heaving a heavy sigh. All the bad feelings still weren't gone, they lurked like a shadow and rained on him constantly. It seemed another storm was coming again, but he was damned and determined to fight it off this time. Either way he would disappoint Stan, by dancing and showing him another thing he wasn't good at that came to Wendy naturally, or not even try at all.

"I'll think about it." He finally decided not to decide.

"That's fine." Stan ate, not caring either way.

"I'm gonna get to class early. Need to catch up on homework." He excused himself as he rose from his seat.

"Okay. Later Ky'." Stan sat, finishing up the last of his food.

After exiting the cafeteria, Kyle pressed himself against the wall and closed his eyes. Maybe he -_wasn't_- quite ready to be back. Or maybe he just needed to stop being such a pussy.

---

The sky was clear and moonless the night of the prom. Naturally, everyone inside the school dressed up nicely, everyone having their own worries and expectations for the night. Everyone mingled with friends by the food table, waiting for a danceable song to come on.

"I hope you're happy woman," Cartman remarked to his date. "You took forever getting ready, like all chicks, and now all the Swiss cheese is gone!"

"Well, excuse me, but I don't think you would appreciate a date that looks like crap either." She shot back. "Like you really need any Swiss cheese anyway." She poked his stomach to emphasize her meaning.

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's such a great comeback. At least I eat food. You probably just binge and purge like a super model you skinny bitch. And another thing, if you don't shut-" Cartman's ears perked up. "Ooh, I like this song! Come on let's dance!"

Wendy shook her head, eyes wide in total disbelief of her date as she allowed him to drag her along.

"...That's fucked up." Stan remarked about his ex and her new partner.

Kyle's eyes snapped in the direction of Stan's gaze. His stomach immediately clenched up as he took in Wendy. He had to admit, she looked damn fine tonight, and Stan was probably thinking the same thing. Especially with how easily she moved to the music.

"Everything's fucked up." Kyle mumbled to himself.

Stan took a cup, gathering himself some punch before turning his attention back to Kyle. "Did Kenny ever find a date?"

"I don't know, he's been so pre-occupied with finding one that I haven't seen him in a few days." His eyes roamed around. "Is he even here?"

"He will be...You know, you look really good in a tux."

Kyle was caught off guard by the remark. It took a moment before he smiled softly. "You really think so?" He frowned as he looked down at himself. "I feel like a gay-wad."

"So do I. I hate dressing up...I guess that makes me a hypocrite."

Kyle shrugged. "We're all guilty of it at some point."

Stan nodded and sipped his punch. "Lemme know if you change your mind about dancing. I'm gonna go hang out with Craig."

"Craig? Why Craig?" He asked before he could think about it.

Stan shrugged. "Why not Craig?"

Kyle's eyes narrowed dangerously. "That's just fine, Stan. Go hang out with Craig. I'm going to find Kenny or wait for him." He shoved passed his date violently, immediately getting swallowed up in the sea of teenagers.

Stan blinked, a tad surprised by Kyle's outburst. "God damn..." He made his way through the crowd, attempting in vain to catch up with his boyfriend. "Kyle? Kyle!"

As Stanley went through the crowd of people, the dance floor emptied a bit as the song ended, bringing Eric and Wendy's first dance of the evening to a close.

"You really know how to move." Wendy commented, surprised and a bit out of breath.

"Thanks," Eric panted. "M-most people think big boned people can't move, but they're wrong. We can tear it up hardcore...For like, thirty seconds...Oh man, c-can we sit down?"

She nodded, linking her arm with his and pulling him to the side of the room, where a row of fold out chairs were lined up.

Eric gladly took a seat. "So anyway, you can owe me the Swiss cheese."

She snorted sarcastically, amazed he was still thinking about that. "I'll see what I can do." She promised.

"What're we gonna do after this?" he asked once his breath returned.

"You aren't ready to go already, are you?" She asked. "I haven't talked to any of my friends yet. And we haven't had a slow dance."

"Of course I'm not ready to leave." He rolled his eyes at her. "They've got brownies on the dessert table. I'm just saying there's a lot of after-prom stuff we could do. You know, food, parties, that kinda thing."

She thought this over. "Tweek's parents are gone for the week. Party at his place afterward is what I've heard." She informed.

Cartman shrugged. "Okay. We'll do that then."

She smiled approvingly. "I'm going to the girls room to find Bebe while you... eat brownies or whatever you want to do." She stood from her chair, dipping to give her date a kiss. "Thanks for taking me." She added before practically skipping off.

Cartman smiled a bit. Things were coming together nicely.

---

Unable to find Kyle in the large crowd of people, Stan began looking around the school outside of the gym where the prom itself was being held. He decided to check the boys room first, figuring his emotional friend was probably in there hiding, crying, or whatever.

As predicted, Kyle hid inside a stall, hating himself for breaking down in tears -_again_-. It was getting old, even to himself. His breath caught when he heard the booming music grow louder, indicating someone had entered. Not wanting to be seen, he backed up against the wall and held still.

"Kyle?" Stan called out, knowing his friend too well. "Ky, I know you're in here...I'm sorry for whatever I said."

Kyle resisted the urge to laugh mirthlessly. "_Sorry for whatever I said" _obviously meant he wasn't sorry at all. How could you be fucking sorry about something you don't even know what you're sorry for?

"Fuck off." His voice echoed off the tiled walls.

"No. I won't fuck off, because I don't know what I did. All I said was I was gonna go hang out with Craig."

"So go, I'm not stopping you!"

"Kyle, you know Craig's not my type. I'm sorry if I pissed you off with something I said, but you need to remember your therapy and get a grip here. I'm not gonna let you spend your prom in a bathroom like this."

"I'll spend my prom however I wanna spend my prom!" He retorted.

Stan thought a moment. "...You know what? You're right. You have that choice, and so do I." He invited himself inside the stall with Kyle, closing the door behind them. "I can spend all night here too y'know."

Kyle wiped his teary eyes on his wrists. "Where's Kenny?"

Stan placed his arms around Kyle, gently hugging him. "Still not here...You okay?"

"I want Kenny," He dissolved into another round of quiet sobs.

"Wanna go look for him?" Stan offered in a soothing voice. "We're not gonna find him in here."

Kyle pulled away, the tears brushed away with more anger this time. "I'll find him myself." He thundered, unlocking the door and flinging it open, not even caring that it smacked Stan.

"Ow!" Ever persistent, Stan followed him. "Kyle! Just hold on. We obviously have to talk."

"Obviously, I'm not Craig." He shot back, storming out of the bathroom and down the corridor.

"Obviously, because if you were Craig, I'd be ignoring you to chase after the guy I actually -_do_- care about."

Kyle stopped abruptly, causing Stan to smack into him before turning around. "Since everything's so obvious, It should also be obvious that I want you to just go do what you obviously want to do with who you obviously want to do it with!"

"You know what I want to do? I want to have a good time with you, my boyfriend. The guy I'm proud to be here with. That's what I wanna do, Kyle." Stan reached out, taking Kyle's hand. "Come on, just calm down okay? ...I love you. You know that."

He stared down at their interlocked hands for several heartbeats. "I'm sorry I'm not good at anything."

"What're you talking about? You're good at lots of stuff."

He yanked his hand away, though all trace of anger had seeped out. "You must be remembering someone else." He remarked dully. "Lets get back before someone comes looking for us."

Stan continued his thought, knowing Kyle wasn't yet feeling better. "You make me laugh. You're really smart...You're -_great_- in bed..."

"Kenny's great in bed." He counter corrected. "Maybe -_you_- should be looking for -him-."

"Yeah yeah, he told me about that." Stan sighed as another song started up inside the gym.

"Poison," Kyle stated when he recognized the song.

"...Dance with me." Stan held his hand out.

Kyle stared down at it, as if some terminal disease were multiplying on his skin right before his eyes. "I can't. Its just one more thing you can be disappointed in me about."

"Kyle, nothing about you disappoints me. You're the one thinking that way, not me. I think you're awesome. I don't care if you can't dance. I'd rather dance terribly with you forever than dance really great with someone else for a day."

The magic words must have been mixed within this time. Kyle sniffed and clung to his friend, finally giving his defense a rest.

"It's okay," Stan whispered softly into his ear, hugging Kyle again. "I love you. Just try to remember that, okay?"

He nodded, still refusing to let go even as he spoke. "This is the song Kenny gave me to listen to when... you didn't want to talk to me anymore."

"Ah..." Stan patted his friend's back. "...You know we don't have a song yet. Maybe we can pick one out. How's that sound?"

"Okay," He leaned up, though keeping a tight hold. "But nothing gay, all right?"

Stan smiled. "Of course not." Stan leaned inward, pecking Kyle's lips. "So, let's go find where the fuck Kenny is. We'll go back in the gym, think of a song. Maybe have a dance..." Stan paused. "...Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh?"

Stan sighed, remembering his prior commitment. "Oh boy...Kyle, please don't get mad again."

Kyle pried himself out of the embrace he was in, putting more than enough space between them. "What the hell did you do now?"

"I still don't know what I did the first time," Stan muttered, his patience decreasing. "Look it's not a big deal, so please don't treat it like one. I just...kinda promised Wendy a dance. -_One_- dance!"

Kyle's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his emotional wave now gone. "Okay?"

Stan blinked twice, very confused by Kyle's seemingly okay reaction to this news. He did love the little Jew, but sometimes Kyle was more confusing than a woman for the love of God. "...O-okay then..."

"I'm thirsty." Kyle stated simply, starting on his way down the hall again. "I'll just have some punch and make fun of fat ass while you dance."

"Kay..." Stan followed behind Kyle, the situation apparently defused. Stan wondered if Kyle had either forgotten to take, or should be on, some sort of medication. He let it go however and went back to partying.

---

(TO BE CONTINUED)

* * *

_KyleisGod& BratChild3_


	11. Booze and Oreo's

**Authors Note: **Mmmm... _Oreos_...

--- And the prom continues. :)

**Disclaimer: **Do. Not. Own.

* * *

**Chapter 11- Booze and Oreo's:**

When Stan and Kyle re-entered the main room, a slow song began to play. Spotting Cartman stuffing his face with brownies, Stanley decided to dance with Wendy now before Kyle went postal again. He approached the girl and once again stuck out his hand. "Wanna dance now?"

She smiled brightly, and placed her hand in his. "I haven't even seen you around. I was beginning to think you weren't true to your word."

"Yeah, I've been busy."

She glanced around uneasily, deciding it was best not to ask, and pulled him to the center of the dance floor, dissolving into him almost naturally. "Having fun tonight?" She asked, leaning her head against his chest and closing her eyes with a smile.

"Eh, it's okay. You?"

"It's good now." She decided.

"Cool...I think it'll get better for me too."

"Where's Kyle?"

"Um..." Stan glanced over her shoulder. "At the punch table with Cartman."

"Jesus," She opened her eyes and lifted her head long enough to confirm his answer. "If they start, I'm leaving." …

"Sup Jew?" Cartman asked after slurping down some punch.

"Just waiting for Kenny, fat fuck." He answered good naturedly.

"So are you fudge packers going to Tweek's party later?"

"Tweek's having a party? Dude!"

"Psh. You would be clueless about parties."

Kyle snatched Cartman's punch away and downed it quickly, just to be an asshole. "Like you really know more."

"Needed something to wash down the cum did you?" Cartman asked, getting another cup.

"Maybe," Kyle challenged, not the least bit put off. "At least I'm not totally ignorant about sex, like you, Miss Virgin Mary."

"Right. You know all about how to get fucked in the ass. That's something to be proud of for sure."

"Actually, no." He admitted. "That's Kenny's specialty. One of them, at least."

"You _would _know that...Where the hell is Kenny anyway?"

"I don't know. No one's seen him all night."

"Psssssst!" A voice invited their discreet attention over to where a lanky blonde was leaning against the refreshment table, a pair of dark sunglasses "hiding" his identity.

"Kenny?" Kyle's voice rang with surprise.

"Kenny, what the hell are you doing?" Cartman asked.

"Demand and supply." He explained. He snapped his fingers, making an identically dressed Butters approach with a small suitcase. "The kids demand and we supply. For a price."

Butters opened the suitcase, revealing rows of tiny alcohol bottles. "W-we got brandy, and-"

"Shhh!" Kenny cut him off and smacked him over the head. "You guys want some?"

Cartman shrugged, not terribly interested in the idea of getting wasted. "I don't, and Kyle's a cheap Jew so he's out."

"Fuck you, porky!" He wailed.

"I wouldn't charge you guys." Kenny assured, handing Kyle a small bottle, which he downed immediately.

Cartman thought another moment. "Do you have anything else in there?"

"Alcohol?" Kenny asked. "Nothing stronger than that." He shoved his thumb in Kyle's direction.

"No, I mean do you have other stuff? Smokes or pills or...condoms..."

Kenny's eyebrows arched animatedly. He glanced around almost suspiciously before pulling open his coat to reveal an assortment of every kind of condom on display inside the orange lining.

"Just call him Trojan man!" Butters announced rather loudly, to which Kenny elbowed him.

Cartman glared at Butters while quickly snatching a few rubbers off Kenny, not caring that Kyle was still around to see all this.

"You guys here together?" Kenny asked with a chuckle, allowing Cartman to take his share before buttoning up again.

"Not funny," Eric informed him, while stuffing the protection into one of his pockets. "Besides, fags don't use condoms. That's why they all have AIDS and..." He trailed off, noticing the action on the dance floor. "What the hell is Wendy doing with Stan?"

"That's why I was asking if you two were here together." Kenny informed.

Kyle looked from the dark haired couple and back again. "Stan promised Wendy a dance." He shrugged.

Cartman stared at the dancing couple, his eyes slowly filling with anger. "That bitch."

"Whoa, dude, it's no big deal." Kyle assured, sensing that deep air of anger you didn't want to fuck around with.

Kenny tilted his head to the side. "Couple more inches down and he can touch her ass." He pondered before adding, "Any closer together and they'd be screwing."

"You don't dance with someone who isn't your date" Cartman said more to himself than the others, his focus not leaving the ex partners. "She's supposed to be mine."

"She doesn't belong to you. She can screw around with anyone she wants." Kenny corrected. "You know how her and Stan are..." He trailed off.

Kyle now watched them with a frown, allowing Cartman's suspicion to get the better of him. "Why _are _they dancing so close? Doesn't that slut know how to keep her hands to herself?"

Butters blinked. "Uh, but ain't that a slow dance fellas? Th-they're s'pposed to touch like that."

"Shut up Butters," Cartman ordered. "This is so god-damn typical. She's never totally gonna leave him alone is she? I mean look at them! She's never gonna care about _me _like that. I'm still second best. Always will be…"

Kyle watched on, mouth slightly open in disbelief. "They look so... so... _comfortable_. Like, that's how they belong."

"They did almost screw each other senseless about a week ago, can't expect them to give up that easily." Kenny reminded them, helping himself inside Butters suitcase for some booze.

"He hasn't screwed her yet," Cartman remarked, the gears in his head already turning. "And he's not going to."

Kenny wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Looks like that theory's about one song away from being bull crap. That's a full body kiss right there. I don't care if they're tonguing or not."

"Kenny, _would you just shut the hell up_?!" Kyle exploded.

"I'll see you guys later." As the song ended, Cartman went right back over to Wendy.

After pulling out of the embrace, Wendy squeezed Stan's hands. "Have fun tonight."

Stan nodded. "You too. Later." He headed off.

Cartman glared at the girl a moment, before finally softening his expression. He even formed a bit of a smile. "Hey, you wanna get out of here?"

She smiled back, completely missing the dark glower, and slipped her hand into his. "Okay."

"Good." His hand locked with hers, Eric headed for the nearest exit with his date, apparently heading for Tweek's party.

Kyle rocked back on his fold-out chair, balancing it on two legs like teachers always hated. He downed his third, pretty blue bottle from Butters' suitcase, his expression set in hard lines as he watched Stan walk away from Wendy.

"Asshole," He hissed beneath his alcohol-fragrant breath.

Sadly, Stan made the unfortunate mistake of going back over to Kyle. He noticed the small bottle sticking out over the top of the boy's closed fist. "Hey Ky...Dude, are you drinking?" he whispered.

Kyle let his chair fall back to it's proper position with a dull thud, and shot Stan a "what-the-hell-do-you-_think_" look.

Able to read the gaze, Stan explained his feelings on the situation. "I don't mind, I'm just saying...So I see Kenny finally showed up."

"No shit." Kyle snapped, getting up easily from his chair to bum more drinks off Butters, which hadn't had much effect on him yet.

Stan blinked, confused by yet another Kyle mood swing. "You okay? If you're bored we can leave."

"I'm not bored and I'm not leaving and when I do leave it wont be with you!" He ripped another bottle away from Butters forcefully, knocking the blonde backward into Kenny, Who had been busy helping customers pick out condoms. They scattered to the ground, followed immediately by an "Oh Crap!" From Kenny as his eyes quickly scanned for teachers.

Trying to remain calm, Stan once again reasoned with his boyfriend, speaking in a concerned tone. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong! Everything's fine, Peachy fucking keen!" He frowned down at the exposed bottle in his hand, deciding against wanting more. He tossed it toward and open trash can, not even caring who saw and missing Stan by a half inch.

Stan's eyebrows furrowed a bit. Nearly being smacked with a small bottle would do that to a guy. He wasn't up for defusing another Kyle problem tonight. At least not right now. Everyone had limits.

"You know what? I came here to have a nice time with you. I'm sorry if I keep doing something wrong, but I don't mean it. I'm gonna go talk to some friends now. Come find me when you've calmed down."

He stormed off.

Kyle's expression softened as he watched Stan walk away, but quickly darkened again. "Came to have a nice time with _me_?" He repeated, speaking solely to himself. "He's been going off with everyone else all damn night!" He turned away, stomping over toward the other side of the far table where Kenny and Butters lurked. "Stan's an asshole and I want to go to Tweek's party without him. Will you take me?" His request came out more like a demand.

Kenny shrugged. "Sure, you can go with us. Stan going to fuck Wendy in the bathroom or something?"

"Probably after he fucks Craig... and Clyde... and Bebe and whoever the hell else his eyes land on." Kyle remarked heatedly, finally beginning to feel a bit dazed from the drinks.

Butters scratched his head, a bit confused by _that _remark. Stan seemed perfectly innocent to him, at least outside of the Wendy dance which everyone seemed to be mad about. "Gee whiz, I-I didn't know Stan was such a slut. I'm awful sorry, Kyle."

Kyle resisted the urge to smack Butters upside the head, instead opting to hold his spinning one. "Not half as sorry as I am." He hiccupped. "The only thing that's ever mattered to him was sex. I tried Kenny... I thought he liked it, but even _your _tricks aren't enough for him."

"...Dude, what're you talking about? He _does _like it."

Kyle pulled his hands away from his head, his anger finally reaching its boiling point. "You would know, wouldn't you?!" He accused. "God Dammit, Kenny, I thought you were my fucking friend!" He whirled around, storming out the exit without a second glance back.

---

As the prom wound down, some of the teens headed to Tweek's house for a nice, adult-less get together. Tweek was naturally freaking out and making sure no one broke anything. Ironically, he was unable to enjoy his own party. Cartman and Wendy were among the first couples to arrive. Kenny and Butters showed up later, not bringing the whacked-out Kyle with them after all. Just like at prom, people talked and danced to the music with their dates. Having had his fill of both, Cartman gave instruction to Wendy.

"This sucks. Let's go in the other room."

"Sure, but what's in the other room?" She asked, as usual, following him anyway.

Cartman led Wendy around the small house, looking for the room he wanted. He saw a bathroom. It couldn't be far from that. Then he spotted it; A big room with a bed in the center. Probably the room of the absent parents. He smiled and headed inside.

Wendy was in no way stupid, and after her eyes quickly took in the cozy room, she lingered hesitantly in the doorway.

Eric noticed her reluctance, and decided to encourage her a bit more. He always had a plan B.

"It's not like anyone's gonna miss us out there." he pointed out, before adding "Wendy, I have Oreos."

She smiled, her unsure thoughts lessening. She stepped further into the room, leaving the door wide open for good measure. "I don't know if we should be in here. Crazy things happen when we're alone together."

"Yeah...But it's fun, huh?" He produced a package of Oreo's from his pocket. They were Double Stuff, just the way he knew Wendy liked them.

"How long have you been carrying those around?" She asked, now holding her hand out in indication she wanted one.

"I swiped them from the kitchen." Eric opened the package. He took out one cookie, and placed it into his own mouth just to be a jerk. "Mmm..."

"Ah, come on, Cartman, give me one!" She demanded lightheartedly, now daring to approach him fully and try to pry one away herself.

Having no one else to play a game of keep away with, Eric handed over the cookies without much fight. "Here."

She gladly snatched them away, settling herself on the bed as she twisted one open and licked out the cream. "Getting tired yet?" She asked around licks.

"Nope." he replied, carefully observing every lick the girl's tongue took. She probably didn't mean it how he thought she did, but that didn't matter to Cartman. Adding to the 'seduction' of the moment, he threw in a follow up comment about getting tired. "In fact, I could stay up all night, if I have to." He winked.

She paused, a cookie raised to her lips. She peered passed him out the door, and suddenly rose to her feet. "I wonder if Stan and Kyle got here yet." She babbled nervously.

"Who cares?" he responded, his tone slightly bitter over yet another mention of Stan tonight. "I'm sure they're fine. I'm sure everyone's fine, cuz this is a party and we're supposed to be having fun."

"I'm having fun." She commented. "Aren't you?"

"Sure," he assured her, taking another cookie. "But we could be having more fun." With that, Eric stood up and placed an Oreo between his lips, leaving it partially stuck out. He moved in closer to Wendy, bringing the other end of the cookie close to her mouth and encouraging her to have a bite.

The tingles were already abuzz in her stomach at the mere thought of kissing him again. She swallowed hard; looking again toward the door to make sure it was still wide open. He didn't seen keen on closing it, so obviously his intentions seemed pure. With a smile she closed her eyes and accepted the cookie invitation.

Cartman's hands wrapped slowly around the girl's waist. After finishing their respective bits of cookie, Eric confidently moved in for yet another kiss. It was even better this time thanks to the dominant Oreo breath. He kissed her long and passionately in a way he hoped Stan never could, stopping only when he truly needed to breathe through his mouth again.

Wendy pressed her forehead against his shoulder, trying to steady her breaths that were now coming out in sharp, deep gulps.

_'Get a grip, girl' _She mentally scolded herself.

"I want you" Eric confessed to her softly, refusing to add '_But I'll never totally have you' _like he was thinking to himself.

"I...I c-can't." She declared, forcing herself to take a step away from him.

Cartman sighed, not shocked by her announcement. "Why?"

Her eyes searched the plush carpet, not really seeing it at all, but a mental image of Stan; shirtless and out of breath, his messy bangs falling over his eyes.

"I deserve to be with someone who will love me just as much as I love them." She remembered her ex's words that day.

"And you don't think I do." Cartman finished for her, hurt and anger building in his voice. "Stan sure as hell didn't love you, and you almost fucked him."

"He does so love me!" She screamed, not even about to get into detail about Stan's heartfelt explanation of why he stopped what she had started.

"And I don't?!" he countered. "Stan didn't get detention for you. He wasn't your errand boy when you needed information. He didn't take you to prom! He didn't free those fucking frogs for you and go against what he believed in! _I_ did all that! It was me! I did it for you, and you should know damn well how I feel!"

She grit her teeth and balled her fists, resisting the urge to punch him. "And so now you think I owe you, is that it?!"

"What else can I do?" he asked. His tone softened as he stared at the floor sadly. "I tried my best to be a nice guy. I really did. That's obviously not enough, so what else do you want from me? ... I'm sorry I'm not Stan."

Her anger melted, and that scared her. Without it she didn't have a defense. She wrapped her arms around him again, this time giving an Eskimo kiss. "If you love me, _that's _enough."

Eric's hands moved up to the girl's face, brushing her hair back as he touched her cheeks. He took a deep breath and shifted his focus to her eyes, staring deeply into them as he spoke.

"...I know I haven't exactly been a saint...And, I know we've had a pretty screwed up relationship...But I do Wendy. I _do _love you..."

There was no restraint this time when she kissed him. And maybe that's as far as it would go, or maybe it would go further. She didn't care, because it's what she wanted _now_, to be with the person she loved.

Cartman kissed back, still coming down from the emotional roller coaster that was this relationship. He kept his hands in place, running them through Wendy's black hair as he slowly got back into the proper mood for this activity. He hadn't planned on saying he loved her, but it did the trick. He'd get what he wanted now, and what he knew in his heart she wanted too. His lips traveled down to her neck, taking in the girl's lovely scent as he pecked her, seemingly unable to get enough of the contact between his lips and her body.

She clung to him tightly, pressing her body almost painfully into his. "The door..." She literally moaned out, already drunk off his touch.

Cartman pulled his head out of the nape of her neck. He promptly went over and slammed the door, then locked it for good measure. Eric took a moment to stare the girl up and down; the girl he knew would be his first. As he removed his tuxedo outfit, he took in every inch of Wendy's form, wanting to keep the mental picture forever.

She kept her eyes locked with his, encouraged by his obvious approval of sexual appeal. She pulled the short, strappy dress off her shoulders and let it fall in a heap around her ankles.

As expected, she looked beautiful. Cartman furiously stripped himself down, eventually leaving himself in nothing but his boxers. He reached into the pocket of his discarded pants and retrieved the condom they'd need. He tossed it on the bed for now, choosing to continue the foreplay. He gave Wendy another kiss, his tongue now furiously wrestling with hers. His hands reached up, cupping and kneading Wendy's breasts in his hands as he moaned against her mouth.

Her fingertips grazed down the back of his neck, around to his chest and downward, lower and lower until finally coasting her palm over the bulge beneath his boxers.

Cartman shuddered from her touch. Maintaining their lip lock, he reached around Wendy's back and fiddled with her bra, doing his best to unhook it. He managed to get it off through sheer luck, and continued his fondling of the girl as another piece of her clothing hit the floor.

Wendy broke the kiss, instead letting her lips trail down his jaw, neck and chest, pausing to flick her tongue across a nipple as her hands caressed their way to his hips and pulled down his last item of clothing.

Cartman smiled, now exposed and aroused. "Your turn" he said simply, his hands traveling down Wendy's body to her oh-so-sweet ass. Eric slipped his hands inside the back of the girl's panties, pushing them down her legs from the inside as he continued to grope her sexy body all over.

Instead of letting this last piece of cloth join the rest on the floor, Wendy clutched it, pulling it out of his hand once it was removed from her. She smiled through her heavy breathing and used the material of her panties to caress him, knowing full well it would bring him closer to the edge, but too into her playing to care if she made it end too soon.

Cartman's eyes rolled toward the back of his head as he felt the silky undergarment being used to pleasure him. Wendy was certainly going above and beyond the call of duty here. The boy buried his face in Wendy's chest, moaning into her as his member grew to its full length. He returned her light nipple play from earlier, flicking his tongue at her nubs a moment before returning his eyes to hers. Breathing harder, he pressed himself into her, moving them both back toward the bed.

Wendy let the piece of material fall from her hand as her back hit the soft mattress. Now beyond any conscious thought, her instincts went into action; lips immediately crushing back to his, though her thighs remained tightly closed.

Cartman moaned, already having lost a bit of pre inside her underwear. As they kissed he reached over for the condom, wanting it close by for when the time came. Making sure she was good and ready, Eric attempted to place a hand between her smooth legs, reaching up for third base.

Her eyes fluttered opened as her breathing increased. Though she didn't attempt to pry her legs apart and make it any easier on him, she didn't stop his advances either.

Eric broke the kiss, panting hotly already. His hands gently touched her smooth thighs, pulling her legs apart and around him as he moved completely over her. His dominant hand finally touched her most private of areas, smiling as he noticed her arousal. As one hand worked on bringing Wendy's body pleasure, the other tore open the condom packaging, discarding it just like the clothes and the Oreos.

Her hands fell to the bed, fingers curling into the smooth sheets and a loud moan issuing out of her throat as the new sensations crashed over her. Her hand reached out, grabbing a throw pillow and pressing it over her mouth in vain attempt to muffle her whimpers of pleasure.

Even though it was for her pleasure, Cartman enjoyed the fingering. The condom would take away the feeling. Now he knew unquestionably how it felt to be inside her. He made another mental note as he rolled the condom over his hard on. Pulling back his other hand, Eric lined himself up with the girl, mounting her in a traditional missionary position. He once again locked eyes with her and moved in.

"Ow, ow!" She yelped, the pillow immediately strewn across the bed.

"Sorry," he whispered, trying to be as gentle as possible while popping her cherry. Cartman moaned in satisfaction as he felt himself inching inside, feeling her tight warmth engulf his organ.

She bit her lower lip, her whimpers initiated this time from the pain ripping her apart. Her eyes squeezed closed tightly, forcing out a few tears.

Cartman attempted kissing her again, wanting to distract her from the pain of virginal loss. He did his best to kiss away her tears, not moving his manhood between her legs any more until he was confident she had adjusted to the new feeling of sex. Fortunately she was still gorgeous to look at. Cartman could stay hard inside her all night if he had to. The loss of his virginity was hot too.

Her tension eased as the pain decreased from his pause in movement. Her eyes opened to look up at him again, taking a deep breath through her mouth and letting it drain out again.

"I love you." he repeated, his eyes never leaving hers as he very slowly began to move again. Moan after moan left his mouth as he felt the pleasures of the flesh for the first time, his breath blowing down against Wendy's face as his hips went back and forth.

She tensed up again as her hands moved to hold onto him rather than the bed sheets. Her breathing became deep and rhythmic, matching his movements. Her eyes closed again, boldly raising her hips upward to match every thrust.

Cartman continued his thrusts, moaning longer with each push. He felt her breath hit him just as quickly as his was hitting her. As they matched each other's pace, Eric felt his member gliding more easily inside of Wendy. This probably meant the pleasure had finally surpassed the pain. Feeling this was the case, he increased his speed yet again. His moans got louder as his orgasm neared.

Sensing the fact that he was close to finishing, she slid her hands down his back, arching deeper against him. "Mmm… _Cartman_…" She moaned out between breaths, loving the feel of him.

"Wendy..." he panted out, hoping she was enjoying this as much as he was. With a sudden shiver and a long moan, it was over. A wave of pleasure rushed through Cartman's body as he filled the condom that protected him, quite enjoying the release.

Wendy let out a long, soundless breath, relived she was feeling a lot more pleasure than pain. Her fingers sifted lovingly through his sugar-brown hair, allowing them both time for their senses to stop spinning.

---

Downstairs at the party, Stan finally arrived. He got a chance to mingle, but eventually went looking for Kyle to smooth things over as he knew he must.

His temperamental lover stood in the middle of a living room he recognized vaguely. It smelled like alcohol and vomit, which didn't exactly help his spinning head any. His eyes roamed the people around him, looking for a suitable, seemingly single person. He paused when his eye fell on Bebe. Her back was toward him, but she seemed to be standing alone. Not only that, her dress (if it could be called that) had his interest as well. A smile drew up his face, and with a quiet hiccup, he approached the girl and taped her shoulder.

She turned around, a bit surprised to see Kyle standing there. She set down her drink and smiled. "Oh, hey Kyle. How's it going?"

"Bad, until now." His smile widened. "I like your dress, looks really nice on you."

"Thanks! You look nice too...You wanna dance?" she offered, figuring he had to be over there for a good reason.

_'Oh my god, this is too easy,_' He thought, trying hard not to laugh. "I'd be crazy to reject a hot girl like you." He slipped his fingers through hers, leading her toward a clear area.

She giggled a bit at his obviously flirtatious compliment. She knew she'd land a guy coming to a party looking like this, but she didn't expect it so soon. It really was too easy. As another song began, she made sure to get close with Kyle as they danced. "So I'm here alone. What about you?"

"Yeah," He answered, daring to step closer and subtly rub his body against hers to the music. He may not have rhythm, but he knew how to get persuasive. "I was actually hoping to find you here. I guess I lucked out for once."

She smiled, smelling the alcohol on his breath. She noticed he was quite bold when he was drunk, and maybe only because he was drunk. Still, an interested boy is an interested boy. "I'd say I'm the lucky one." she replied kindly, before starting to grind her crotch into his, also testing the waters.

Stan once again made his way through a group of people, spotting Kyle on the dance floor. It was hard to miss that boy's red afro. "Jesus dude, how many drinks have you had?"

Kyle turned from Bebe, moving to stand close behind her and, invisible to Stan, placing his hand on the small of her back and caressing to assure her the play wasn't over yet.

His eyes narrowed at the rudely asked question. "Not enough to make _you _look any better."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Well apparently you've had enough to make you a dancer. I wish I'd have known that earlier. I could've just gotten you wasted and saved some time."

"I'm not a dancer, I just want to be close to Bebe." He announced, not even caring she could hear every word being said.

Stan turned to address the blonde. "Could you excuse us? We need to talk."

"Sure. We'll finish our dance later, Kyle." She winked at him suggestively and headed off.

"God damnit Stan, thanks a lot!" He thundered, pointing in the direction Bebe had gone.

"Well we do need to talk, especially before you lead her on any more."

"I have nothing to say to you." He decided, turning to go find Bebe.

Stan followed, grabbing the boy's arm. "Well I've got plenty to say to you. You get pissed at me for no reason, walk out on our date, throw a fucking bottle at my head, and now this. _I'm _at least trying to be rational, and I wanna talk about this."

Kyle ripped his arm away, rubbing the part Stan had grasped. "I wasn't pissed for _'no reason'_, it was a _'date' _Stan; I'm free to walk out whenever I damn well please, and I didn't throw the bottle at your head, I threw it at the trash can! And what do you mean _'And now this'_? There is no 'this' besides you barging in and ruining my fun."

"You were having fun dancing? Great, how about dancing with me? I gave you plenty of chances. Why _were _you pissed anyway? I honestly don't know Kyle."

"I don't want to dance with you, that's why I didn't do it!" He growled out his answer. "And since you're too stupid to understand why I'm pissed off, I'll tell you why! Just because I don't want to dance, you kept ditching me! You can hang out with Craig and "some friends" without having to dance, but you can't just hang out with me? That's fucking weak!"

Stan rolled his eyes. "Oh whatever. I would've been happy hanging out with you, but you kept walking away! I was having a perfectly good time until you got mad at me for talking to other people at a social gathering-- which by the way is kinda the point."

"So stay the hell out of my way and go get social! Bebe's waiting, and I'm sure you have Wendy waiting somewhere too!"

Stan sighed. "What do you want me to say, Kyle? I'm sorry for trying to dance with my boyfriend? I'm sorry for thinking maybe I could break you out of your shell and we could have a better time? I just thought _maybe _you'd be bummed out seeing everyone else dancing and maybe you'd actually want to get in on it too! I guess that was stupid huh? Oh wait, not it wasn't, cuz you were just dry humping Bebe over there!"

Kyle shrugged simply, as if to say, "Yeah, so what?"

Stanley opted to give up for the time being. Maybe he could reason with Kyle better when the boy was sober, or even when he'd had even more drinks and couldn't move. He'd already fucked up some of Stan's night, why should he be allowed to ruin the rest of it? Besides, no good could come of continuing the fight. "Fine Kyle, you go be pissed at me for asking you to dance while you're _dancing _with Bebe. But just remember no matter how pissed off you are at me, or how pissed I am at you for that matter, that we're in love. I love you and I'd like to fix this. When you're ready to do that, why don't _you _come find _me_?" He walked off to salvage his evening.

Kyle rolled his eyes, another stray hiccup finding its way through his lips. "What a load of bullshit." He decided out loud. Instead of going in search of Bebe, however, he traced Stan's path, choosing to follow the boy and find out exactly where it was he kept running off to. Unfortunately, Stan wasn't up to anything sinister. He passed some people and exchanged hellos, and then walked right out of the party, deciding to head for home. Stan walked off his anger for a bit, power-stepping his way through the falling snow. His pace decreased however when he heard another pair of foot steps behind him. He smiled a bit, thinking _maybe _Kyle had regained his reason. If not, at least he had gotten him away from that slut Bebe. "I love you." he repeated without even turning around, knowing full well who was behind him.

Kyle's steps slowed in time with Stan and finally came to a stop. "You don't-" He hiccupped again and tried his damndest to keep his balance. "You don't see me." He insisted, truly believing Stan didn't know he was there.

"Sure I don't...Kyle; I know things are rough right now. I'm sorry you're going through some emotional stuff, and I want you to know I'm gonna keep trying my best to help you through it."

"No," He shook his head far too vigorously for the current situation. "I can't do this anymore when you can't stop hanging all over Wendy."

Stan turned around, happy they were at least talking again. His tone remained soft as he spoke. "Kyle, I can understand why that bothers you. But you have to understand that Wendy's my friend. I can't just stop hanging out with her...Besides; you've got nothing to worry about. She's with Cartman, and she's not you."

"Well, if she _was _me she sure as hell wouldn't be with Cartman." He announced. His disgust settled, allowing the seriousness to penetrate his drunken shell. "You just looked so..." He motioned his wrist, trying to think of the appropriate word. "..._perfect _with her. You're never that relaxed with me." His eyes met the ground. "You're so tense all the time."

Stan shrugged. "I don't mean to be...But you know, I bet I will get that comfortable with you. Maybe even more...It just takes time."

Kyle looked back up, hopefulness shining through with a touch of hesitation. "Were you going to see her?"

"What do you mean?"

"Tonight," His vision blurred, then focused, then blurred. He was getting nauseous ."Is that where you're going, to meet up with her?"

"No." The blue-eyed boy shook his head. "I was just gonna go home."

"Do I smell like booze?" Kyle abruptly changed the subject, blowing a puff of breath in Stan's face.

Stan sniffed. "A little...You wanna just come home with me? Your mom would kill you if she caught you drunk."

Kyle grinned and linked his arm with Stan's. "Just don't try anything funny, I don't put out on a first date."

Stan laughed, gladly escorting his finally happy partner home.

* * *

**To Be Continued...**

* * *

_-KyleisGod & BratChild3_


	12. Coffee & Stan

**Authors Note:** "Cartman scored!" ... He sure did, Generally Maz, he sure did. (Grinz wildly)

* * *

**Chapter 12- Coffee and Stan**

Monday rolled around again. As the busses pulled up to school, the students found a smiling Eric Cartman already present outside the main door of the building. Why he of all people had gotten to school early, no one knew.

Wendy was one of the first to step up to him, being someone who always sat in the front of the bus.

"Why are you here so early?" She asked, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

Without even a hello, Cartman grabbed hold of Wendy's hands and pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss in front of everyone. Upon breaking it, he grinned and uttered softly to her "I love you, and I'm sorry." before walking away merrily.

She watched him walk away, eyebrows knit in confusion. Finally she shook her head as if to jump start her brain again and pushed her way through the heavy door of the school.

It was clear when the doors opened what exactly Eric was sorry for. Hanging on the walls were various enlarged photographs from inside Tweek's parents bedroom. They were pictures of a naked, sleeping Wendy lying next to a smiling, clothed Eric Cartman. They were pictures taken at the party only days ago, and copies of them were seemingly everywhere, along with a note that read; _I told you she was a ho._

Wendy's heart froze, only to begin pounding again at a painfully hard rate. A sinking pain consumed her, starting at the pit of her stomach and shooting throughout her entire being. The whispers and stares from other students went unnoticed. She wasn't so much humiliated as she was heartbroken, though both seemed to take the upper hand at the moment. How could he do that, after everything that happened? Tears glassed her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

_Because he was Cartman…_

And in a flash, she disappeared out the door.

Kyle's shock at this particular prank mirrored Stan's, while Kenny's eyebrows shot up with interest. "Oh, hell yes!" He ripped a picture off the wall. "I'm keeping this as a souvenir."

Stan ignored his perverted chum, feeling that ripping down the pictures as soon as possible was a good idea. He shook his head, feeling bad for poor Wendy.

"He would actually sink this low?" Kyle asked, still shocked shitless. "Of course he would, this is Cartman!" He corrected himself. His anger grew, fists clenching at his sides. "He's not getting off that easily this time." He turned, stomping down the hall in search of his friend and enemy.

Cartman sighed happily, pulling some things out of his locker as he looked around the school observing the beauty of his masterpiece. But his peaceful admiration was short lived when Kyle came storming down the corridor, eyes locked on his prey.

"Hey, fat fuck!" He yelled to get the boys' attention, still a good twenty feet away.

Cartman rolled his eyes, not caring his friend was mad at him for this act. "What do you want, Jew?"

The redhead answered this particular question by tightening his fist and slamming it as hard as he could into Cartman's face.

"That's for Stan!" His fist flew again. "That's for Ike!" His knuckles connected with Cartman's jaw this time. "That's for me!" He gripped the front of the large boys shirt and jammed his knee into his crotch with as much force as he could muster. "And _that's _for Wendy!"

An unsuspecting Cartman fell to the ground, unsure whether to grab his groin or his face first. "Hate you!!" he coughed out eventually.

"Why'd you do it, Cartman?!" He demanded, ready and willing to do more damage whenever he felt suitable. "Why Wendy? She hasn't done a god damn thing to deserve this! She already had her heart broken twice by Stan! Wasn't screwing with me and Stan enough for you?! Wasn't the fact that I almost fucking killed myself enough to satisfy your sick craving to bring people down?!"

Cartman got back on his feet. "You _should _be thanking me, asshole!! You saw the way they were dancing at prom! She loves him! She's never gonna love _me _that way! She's never gonna trust me like she does him!" He rubbed his jaw. "So I gave her a reason not to, and if I do say so myself, I did a damn fine job of it. I refuse to share her love with Stan. If you'd like to do that, fine, but Eric Cartman gets all or nothing. Why don't you do us all a favor and go kill yourself again, hm?"

"I'd like to do us all a favor and kill _you _instead!" Kyle raved. "What the fuck do you expect from her? Stan has never given her a reason to distrust him, but you're always pulling stupid shit like this! I hope to God you enjoy your last laugh, because you've screwed yourself in the ass royally this time! No one has ever fucked with Wendy Testaburger without getting a double dose of their own medicine!"

"I know what I'm doing. And if that's true, I hope she goes after _you _for making her man a cocksucker! This is really none of your business anyway, so I'll thank you to fuck off!"

Kyle graced his response with one last kick in the nuts before turning and heading off to help Stan and Kenny clear the school of the mess Cartman made.

---

Once all the pictures appeared to be down, Stan ditched school to go find Wendy. He knew what he had to do given the mindset she'd probably be in. He ventured for her home and attempted knocking at the front door. Getting no answer, he went to the family garage instead and grabbed a ladder. Placing it against the side of the house, he carefully climbed up to Wendy's bedroom window, tapping the glass lightly.

Her broken crying was interrupted by the noise. The blanket she hid beneath was pulled down slightly, enough for her eyes to peek toward her window. She immediately sat up, threw off her covers and rushed to the window. She opened it without any resistance and flung her arms around Stan's neck and hid her face there, not even allowing him the chance to step inside.

Stan sighed, doing his best to hug her back while maintaining his balance. "I'm _so _sorry..."

Her tears came out harder, more from relief she wasn't alone anymore. There wasn't a person in the world she would rather see right now. "I... can't even... Bah-breathe..." She managed to choke out.

"Just try to calm down," Stan suggested. "Take a deep breath...Uh, can I come in?"

She inhaled deeply, composing herself before releasing him and stepping back.

Stan hopped inside and shut the open window. He went right back to hugging the poor girl, and stated a few quick facts in hopes of cheering her up just a bit.

"...Me and the guys took down the pictures...Kyle even beat Cartman up."

She squeezed her eyes closed, wishing the world away and not even caring about anything he just said. "I knew this was going to happen." She voiced the premonition she had already told him before any of it had taken place. "I was... afraid. But I didn't listen to my instincts. I'm so _stupid_."

"No you're not." he assured her. "Cartman's conned a lot of smart people...You know, he's the one losing out here. He had everything and he fucked it up."

The girl squeezed him tighter, hoping she wasn't crushing his ribs. "I don't understand. Why would he go through so much trouble?" She choked on another sob. "Is there even a reason?"

Stan sighed, not minding the girl's clinging. He patted her on the back softly. "I know what you mean. We've spent years trying to figure him out. All we've figured out is he's a heartless prick."

"I loved him, Stan." Her voice quivered on the confession. "And I know it's stupid but I... _still do_!" Tears exploded again on the last two words.

Stan just continued to hold her, unable to help much this soon after the events in question. "I'm here for you" he whispered, unsure what else to offer.

---

A few hours passed until yet another visitor made her way to Wendy's house. The next few days would probably be a whirlwind of phone calls and visits, but of course Wendy's closest friends would get there first. Bebe used the same ladder to climb up to her friend's room, noticing her and Stan asleep on the bed together. They were clothed and things were innocent, but that didn't stop Bebe from giggling before knocking on the window.

Wendy pried her heavy eyelids open a crack, having been in too deep a sleep to realize what had woken her up until the knock came again. She peered through her window at the blonde girl, then to Stan. Reluctantly, she slid out of the safety of his embrace and treaded softly over to open the window for her friend.

Bebe climbed inside quietly. "Thanks" she whispered, unsure whether or not it was okay to wake Stan. She got right to the obvious point of her visit. "How are you doing?"

"How am I doing?" Wendy repeated, her voice rough from sleep. "I fell in love with a complete asshole, believed his lies, and now every single person in school has seen me naked! how do you _think _I'm doing?"

Bebe nodded. "You want to get some coffee or something? I'd hate to wake him up." She grinned ever so slightly.

Wendy glared dangerously. "You'd better pray to God that smirk doesn't mean what I think it means." She warned. "I'm not up to leaving the house, but we can go downstairs."

The blonde headed downstairs, agreeing it was a good idea. She headed inside Wendy's kitchen and began to help herself to some things, noticing the family did have some instant coffee lying around. Hurray!

"Guys are jerks," she commented.

"Tell me something I haven't figured out already." Wendy dropped dully into a kitchen table chair and leaned her chin against her palm. "Like how prom night went for _you_."

"Stan told you about that? Yeah, you know Kyle _still _owes me a dance too. Psh!"

"Wait, what about Kyle?" Wendy broke in. "Stan hasn't told me anything."

"Oh. Well technically it was after prom, but whatever. It's all a party. But yeah, Kyle had a few drinks and we started dancing and stuff. It was nice, but then he just went off to talk with Stan and never came back. At least Stan kept his promise and danced with you. He's a real man."

Wendy frowned. "Was he supposed to come back? Just because he danced with you once doesn't mean he would ditch his date for you. He was probably just being nice."

Bebe paused in the middle of making her coffee. "Date? He said he came there alone...And the way we were dancing...Well, let's just say if you weren't in the bedroom then, I would've been."

The raven haired girl's eyes widened. "But he's already with... he's suppose to be... I thought..." She blinked rapidly. "...Oh, boy…"

Bebe glared at her friend. "He's _with _somebody? Dammit! Why are the good ones always gay or taken?"

"Or both," Wendy added. "Why are you freaking out anyway? You just insulted him by saying he wasn't a real man."

"Well I thought he was just a jerk. I didn't know he was a cheating jerk." She joined her friend at the table, letting the coffee brew and such. "That's my problem though. I came here to check on you."

Wendy turned her hands out, palms upward. "I'm still alive." She confirmed before letting out a long sigh.

"I'm really sorry...All us girls were talking at lunch. Nobody's ever going to date him now."

"Was anyone ever _going _to?"

"Don't worry too much about the pictures," she added. "They came down pretty quickly, and you know guys. They'll just try to picture me naked tomorrow or something."

"They don't really have to with the clothes you wear," Wendy pointed out, indicating the very outfit she was sporting. "And honestly, I'm not as upset about the pictures as I am about him lying to me. He told me he loved me, and I believed it. No offense, but I always thought something like this would happen to _you _not me."

Bebe shrugged. She couldn't argue, knowing the life she leads. "Yeah, it sucks...Well; they say you'll never forget your first time."

Wendy groaned mournfully, covering her eyes with her hands and cursing herself for letting the memories of a few nights ago flood her. "I believe that."

Bebe fetched the coffee, pouring Wendy a cup as well. "So how long has Stan been over?"

She glanced at the clock above the sink, quickly calculating in her head. "A few hours…"

Bebe giggled again before sipping her coffee.

"What's so funny?" Wendy demanded, eyebrows furrowed and fingers tightening around her cup handle.

"Oh, nothing, it's just a guy you've dated coming over for hours and sleeping in your bed."

"That is not funny," She emphasized each word and shot up from the table. "You actually think I would do something like that? I'm not a ho, Bebe, no matter what Cartman says!"

"I know. It's just...well come on, it doesn't _look _very good...Besides, I couldn't blame you. Stan's a nice guy." She took another sip. "I'd do him."

"You'd do _anyone_! Probably even Cartman if you got the chance!" She swallowed back her jealousy at her own remark and went on. "I don't care how it looks; Stan and I are very close. He's only here to help me through this. Obviously I'm in no mood for anything "romantic" and even if I were, it wouldn't matter, because he's with Kyle!"

Bebe raised her eyebrow. "Really? Damn...He sure didn't seem gay to me..." She took another sip of coffee. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Wendy closed her eyes again, reliving the feel of Cartman's breath against her skin. His words rang through her head.

_But I do, Wendy. I _do _love you... _

"It's too soon to ask." She finally answered her friend.

Bebe frowned a bit. "Well, you know we're all here for you. Just call me if you need anything...Hopefully I'll be able to talk on the phone. I mean, what with all the random guys I blow..." she added sarcastically, not letting Wendy's remarks about her being a huge slut go unchecked.

Wendy looked down, rubbing her knuckles anxiously against her palm. "You wouldn't...You're not going to hook up with Cartman, are you?"

"After what he did to you? Hell no. Jeez Wendy, give me a little credit."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Bebe."

"Sure...I should go. Like I said, call me if you need anything...At least if your parents found _me _sleeping in your bed, they wouldn't freak out."

Wendy rolled her eyes. "I'll keep that in mind."

Bebe took one last sip of coffee and stood from her chair. She hugged her friend and said goodbye before heading off for who knows where.

---

During the hectic post-prom week, Kyle was once again at his therapy sessions. He lied on the couch telling the fucked up tale that was prom night, and its aftermath, to his therapist.

"So the Bebe girl just went and slapped you?"

He nodded. "In front of everyone. It even echoed, like God was mocking me for it."

"I wouldn't go that far...At least you weren't as embarrassed as Wendy."

Kyle sighed at the name. "Sometimes I think she got what she deserved. But I know that isn't true, so I feel bad after thinking it."

"You certainly don't seem to like her very much. Or her boyfriend..."

"Not only do I not like Cartman, I _hate _him. I always have and one day he's going to burn in hell." His anger cooled before he spoke again. "I don't hate Wendy. She's... pretty cool sometimes. I hate how Stan loves her so much more than me."

"Why do you think that's the case?" the therapist asked, making some more notes in Kyle's file.

"He doesn't barf when I kiss him." He stated, oddly enough. "Stan always barfs when he's in love."

The therapist paused. "...I see...So, if he were to do this, you'd believe he loved you?"

Kyle shook his head. "But at least I wouldn't feel like he's only pretending. I would know he feels _something_. Once I thought he did, but it turns out it was only his chewed gum." He glared upward at the memory.

"This is an interesting situation," the Doctor admitted. "Do you think we could get him to sit in on a meeting? Would you be okay with that?"

Kyle's eyes snapped over to the doctor, uncertainty ringing his voice. "Here? With us? And you want me to say all this?" He looked down, rubbing his arm nervously. "... I don't know. We never really talk about our feelings. Guys don't do that."

"Well, obviously Stan is a big part of your life. Our goal here is to figure out the causes of your emotional problems, and then work on the best possible solutions to them. I think getting his opinions on some of these matters would be helpful, since he seems to cause you so many different feelings."

His habitual rubbing on his arm increased dramatically. "I... guess that's okay."

"Good. Invite him for the next session." The therapist made a few more notes.

Kyle nodded. "Can I get the hell out of this gay ass place now?"

"That's another thing," the older man pointed out. "Through no fault of your own Kyle, you seem very quick to anger. You even mentioned earlier that you were belligerent toward Stan at that party. How does that make him feel? ...Or is that one of those things you don't talk about?"

"I'm _not _angry!" He snapped, completely contradicting his statement with his tone. "It doesn't make Stan feel anything. Stan doesn't feel anything except blowjobs."

"And does his lack of response to these situations make you believe he doesn't care?"

"What else am I suppose to believe?" He shot back. "He was always showing Wendy that he cared for her. He was always _telling _her. He was always puking on her! I got more affection out of him when I was nothing but his best friend."

"But back then, you also weren't having these issues." the therapist calmly pointed out. "Now you are. I feel that by toning down your anger, Stan will feel safer, or even just able, to get that close to you emotionally."

"I told you I'm not angry!"

"All right. Then you're...uhh..._passionate_. Stan's lack of affection causes you to be very passionate, and your passion causes him to hold back his feelings. At least that's what I'm gathering."

"He doesn't _have _any feelings." He calmed down dramatically. "He used to. He felt things more than any of us did. But Cartman took that away from him."

"I wouldn't give up so easily. Like you said, you're both men...Invite him to the next meeting. I really believe it'll help us, especially if you really don't talk about these things regularly..._Now _you may get the hell out of this gay place."

Kyle scowled at the unexpected mockery and stormed to the door. "You're like Mister Rodgers with balding hair and too many assumptions and I hate you!" He declared before slamming out.

---

**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**

* * *

_-KyleisGod & BratChild3_


	13. Artemus Clyde Frog

**Authors Note: **Once again, thank you so much for all of you who took the time to review. :) Glad everyone liked Kyle's "passion" in the last chapter. That's one of the things about him that make him so adorable.

* * *

**Chapter 13-Artemus Clyde Frog**

Another week went by and Wendy finally returned to school. As expected, the talk about her had died down some within the last few days. Her friends welcomed her back upon her return. Cartman was suspicious by her absence, and who could blame him?

Wendy sat at her desk with her back straight and stiff. She had refused to look at Cartman all day, or even acknowledge any of his telltale smirks, laughter, and occasional insults. The hurt was still surpassing the anger, and she couldn't afford to let him see her tears. Stan had been her savior, providing her comfort in his smile and voice.

She glanced across the room, now returning the smile he sent her way and wishing to God she was seated next to him instead of Cartman, who occupied the desk just right of her.

Bored of listening to a teacher's lecture, Eric quietly tore a few blank pages out of his notebook. He then folded the papers over a few times and tore them into even smaller pieces. He was clearly up to something. Producing a pen from his pocket, he wrote a quick note out and discreetly passed it over toward Wendy.

She stared down at the piece of paper, unsure whether or not she actually wanted to read what he had to say. Most likely it would be something to upset her again, but being female, curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself reading the note.

_Like I said last week, I love you and I'm sorry_. The note began. _My plan was pretty sweet. It's too bad you had to be the one I used it on._

Her eyes narrowed at the three words he seemed to toss around so casually, _"I love you."_ She clicked her own pen open, purple in ink, and wrote a quick, angry reply.

Cartman accepted the note, read it, and replied again on another scrap of paper.

_Your mom, _it opened maturely. _Sorry if reading this is interrupting you undressing Stan with your eyes. That's why I did it you know._

She turned the paper around, hating herself for being reeled in to communicating with him.

_That's why you did what_? She wrote back.

_The pictures_, he responded on another passed note. _Now Stan knows what we did. Hell, everyone does. They all think you're a dirty skank for sleeping with the fat bastard. Stan won't touch you now, and no one else will either. You'll never love me like you do him anyway, and I find that unacceptable. So I did something about it._

_You're wrong_, was all she wrote back.

Cartman was the one now overtaken by curiosity. He looked at her and blinked a few times, thinking of a proper response. He finally wrote back

_I doubt it, but why don't we just talk about this after class?_

She sucked in a breath for courage and gave him her final answer; _Leave me alone._

He smiled and penned yet another reply.

_See? You know I'm right. You love Stan and it's never gonna be that way with us, so I killed it._

Unable to control herself any longer, Wendy shot up, slammed the note onto the surface of Cartman's desk and screamed for all to hear. "You're damn right it's never going to be that way with us, because _you _ruined it! Stop saying you love me and stop saying you're sorry because we both know damn well that neither is true! Just leave me alone!" That said, she burst out the door.

The class all turned their attention toward Cartman. He just shrugged, smirking triumphantly. "Well someone's obviously on her period. Please teacher, do go on."

---

Another week passed, and soon Kyle found himself back inside the therapists office, only this time Stan had joined them. The couple sat on the couch, Stan's arm around Kyle.

"Hey, how long do these things last?" Stan asked.

Kyle shrugged. "An hour."

"Stan," the therapist started "you're here so we can get your opinions on some things. Kyle seems to think you don't care that much about him. What do you think about that?"

Stan pondered this. "Well, sir, I think you're gay. But I also think Kyle's wrong."

Kyle tensed noticeably, wishing Stan wasn't there. He knew this would happen. Stan thought he was wrong about everything.

"Why do you feel that way?" the therapist asked, ignoring the odd insult coming from a homosexual.

"Because he's my friend. I care about him a lot."

Kyle stared down at the floor, hurt beyond words at the answer. "Friend" and "care" was his point exactly. The only relationship they carried outside of that was the bedroom. He shifted uncomfortably, wanting to shove Stan away from him.

"Kyle, do you have anything to say?" the therapist asked. "It might help if you two just talked for a bit."

Kyle twisted his fingers nervously, looking to Stan and back to the therapist. He finally shook his head.

"You're quiet" the therapist observed. "You're usually not this quiet...Stan, what have you done to show Kyle you care?"

"Well, the time he tried to kill himself I was with him the whole time. I helped him through that. And, of course we make love...I tried taking him to prom too, and I tell him I love him. What else am I supposed to do?"

"Only when I'm mad," Kyle finally spoke up, quiet and whispery as it may be.

Stan looked at his partner. "Well, that's usually the time when people need reminders...I could say it more."

"I don't want you to!" Kyle shouted, finally throwing off Stan's arm and making a break for the opposite side of the room, where he crossed his arms and glared out the window.

The therapist interrupted. "Stan, how does it make you feel when Kyle does things like that?"

Stan sighed. "Frustrated, I guess. Like I can't do anything right…"

"Oh, so now you're a liar." Kyle accused, still refusing to turn around.

"How am I a liar?" Stan asked calmly. "You get mad I don't say I love you enough, and then say you don't wanna hear it when I offer to do it more. It makes me feel like I can't do anything right. That's not a lie, that's accurate."

"It's a lie because you think everything _I _do is wrong. Which means you must think you're always right." Kyle explained, his anger calm though still very much in tact. "I don't want you to say it just because I want you to. I don't want to make love just because I want you to." He finally turned around. "And I don't want you around at all if you're here just because I want you to be."

The therapist made notes, letting them have at it. Stan replied. "Okay, that makes sense. But Kyle, I wouldn't do that stuff just because you want me to. I do it because _I _want to. And I don't think you're always wrong either."

"You have turned into such a goddamn liar, Stan, and I can't figure out if its from hanging out with Cartman all these years or just that you're too much of a pussy to admit the truth!"

Stan rolled his eyes. "So what are you saying? That any time I agree with you I'm lying, but anytime I disagree, it's because I think I'm always right?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." He hissed. "You just don't want me to try and kill myself again. That's the only reason you came back!" Angry tears welled in his eyes, but it didn't even matter. "It's the only reason you're here right now, not because you want to be with me. And that's what makes you a liar."

"Do you think that's valid?" the therapist asked, letting Kyle sob over in the corner a moment.

"Well obviously I wouldn't want him to kill himself again, but that's _not _the only reason I'm here. It's like I've told him before, the suicide helped me realize how much he means to me. If everybody else I knew died, I'd get over it. Kyle means too much though. I...I couldn't live without him..." He sighed. "And if I don't say that enough, it's not because I don't feel it...What time is it?"

"12:36" the therapist replied after a glance at his watch.

Stan smiled and reached into his front pocket. He produced a small box with a ribbon around it and approached Kyle. He tapped the red head on the shoulder to make him turn around. Stan held out the box.

"Happy birthday."

Kyle peered down at the box through tear blurred eyes, then up at Stan questioningly.

"It's 12:36 on May 26th," Stan explained. "It's the first actual minute of your birthday." His smile widened and he held out the box even more, wanting his lover to open it.

Kyle accepted it, bewildered he had forgotten his own birthday in the midst of all his emotional issues. He unwrapped it, a mixture of feelings consuming him.

"It's a promise ring." Stan told him, his tone softening. "I know it's not much, but I thought it looked okay. I don't really know how to shop for jewelry, so..."

"So I won't kill myself?" Kyle questioned, eyes locked on the gift as more tears fell.

"So you'll know how I feel," Stan corrected. "Promise rings are kinda like engagement rings, only for people who can't really get married yet. Or ever for us. It lets you know that my heart belongs to you, and you're the one I wanna be with no matter how much we piss each other off sometimes." Stan produced a matching ring, sliding it on his own finger in a show of solidarity.

Kyle squeezed his eyes closed as more sobs wrecked his body, and clung to Stan tightly, still clutching the gift in his hand. "I hate you," His voice quivered. "For making me love you so much that I cry more than a girl on her period."

Stan smiled at the comment and wrapped his arms lovingly around Kyle. "I love you." he reminded Kyle. "I guess you're just gonna have to get used to that." he joked, his tone still soft.

"You wanted Wendy." He cried. "You went back to her, and I ruined it for you. I'm sorry, Stan. I'm so sorry..."

"What are you talking about? You didn't ruin anything. Kyle, you helped me figure out what I wanted. You cleared up my life so much...Wendy's great, but she's not you. She's never gonna be you. I've done things with you I could never do with her, even when I had the chance."

He sniffled, holding Stan tighter. "I'm not second place?"

"He seems to feel he is," the therapist informed Stan.

"Of course not! You're not second place to her or anybody else in my life. Shit, you _are _my life, Kyle."

He hid his face in the crook of Stan's neck, crying so hard now he shook almost violently.

Stan just held him, enjoying the moment of peace. "I know you won't kill yourself again. You already promised me that and I believe you."

"Are you afraid of me?" He managed to calm himself enough to ask. "Because I get so mad at you?"

"I wouldn't say that...But I know you're still going through some emotional stuff. I mean, that's why you're here. Sometimes, I guess I just feel like I'd be a sucky boyfriend if you got pissed off and I argued. That'd just make it worse. So I back off until you really make me mad and I finally do something about it...I guess that's not good huh?"

"No it's not." the therapist pointed out.

Kyle pulled his face away from Stan, instead resting his chin on his lovers shoulder. "I feel like you don't want me around unless I'm happy." He blinked away more tears. "I can't be happy all the time."

"Dude I know that. I just wanna help you. That's why I'm here."

"Remember Kyle," the therapist said. "Our goal here is not to make you some emotionless zombie. We're trying to reduce your emotional issues as much as possible. Like all people you're bound to get angry or sad or whatever sometimes, and so is Stan here. And when that happens, you two should be able to deal with it appropriately."

"I can... do that." He decided around sniffles. "if Stan can stop ignoring me."

"I think that's a good idea." the therapist agreed. "Look at what you two have already accomplished just by getting your full feelings out. You were hostile before, now you're hugging. I know you're men, but you need to get into this habit."

Stan blinked. "So...So wait...You're saying if Kyle's pissing me off, and I wanna tell him to go fuck himself, I should just say it? Even if it makes him madder?"

The therapist nodded. "It's just crazy enough to work. Expressing your true feelings is better than expressing none at all. This way you both won't hold back and bottle things up, releasing it in unhealthy ways...Wouldn't you agree, Kyle?"

He nodded, finally releasing Stan. "But I'm not going to say how I'm feeling if he's only going to tell me to go fuck myself."

Stan smiled. "Hey, we're pre-engaged. I'll have to get used to us talking about our feelings and shit."

Kyle mirrored the smile. "Yeah, this gay stuff really does work after all."

Stan took Kyle's hand and turned his attention to the therapist. "Can we go now? It's his birthday and everything. We've got parties to get to."

"Sure." The therapist smiled. "I think we've made real progress today. Same time next week Kyle?"

His smiled brightened as his fingers tightened around Stan's. "Same time."

---

The sun began to set on the small town. Over at Starks Pond many frogs were playing freely in the water, some of them the frogs that Wendy and Cartman had saved from dissection.

Wendy sat on a rock, sighing as the seemingly happy animals passed by her. They were lucky; Frogs didn't have problems like humans did. Suddenly, a very large frog caught her attention. A frog that was more floating than swimming. It was the notorious Clyde Frog himself.

"Oh my God, you've got to be kidding me." She spoke to herself.

"Hi!" he said cheerfully as he floated by her, the expression on his face never changing. "Wow, I never thought I'd see you again."

"I never _wanted _to see you again." She spat.

"Ay! What'd I ever do to you?"

"You ruined my life!" She shot back, irritated the doll sounded so much like Cartman himself. "You're the one who talked me into giving that devious bastard a chance, and look at what he did!"

"It's still not my fault he's an asshole." The frog stopped moving to speak to her, none of his body moving as usual. "I'm sorry though."

She scoffed. "You're a liar, just like he is."

"God dammit, don't make me guilty by association. All I said was he liked you. That was true then, and it still is."

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Oh, he liked me alright. That's not exactly something boys can hide very well when you're getting it on."

"Sure that was part of it, but there was more. I know. I live with him. He still talks about you every night."

"I hardly consider random insults and gloating that I'm a '_ho'_ as something more. At least not anything more than proof you lied to me when you told me he '_really_' likes me."

"Then I guess you won't care to know that he's hurting too. In his mind, you hurt him. That's why he got even. I don't agree with it, but it's what he does. But if you don't wanna hear about his pain, I'll go back to my workout."

She frowned at the words, and spoke out before she could tell herself not to. "How did I hurt him?"

"Whatever you do with Stan. He talks about Stan a lot at home. He's super jealous of your relationship, and he hates that he'll never be that close to you."

Wendy considered this, uneasy about believing him so quickly. "That's a stupid thing to be jealous of. Stan and I are close, but Cartman... I mean, he got as close to me as anyone possibly can, physically and emotionally. He's the one who had to go and destroy that. I guess it didn't mean as much to him as it did to me."

"But did you ever tell _him _that?" Clyde Frog questioned. "Or were you too busy not trusting him to open up before he acted stupid?"

"Of course I-" She cut herself off, everything from that night rushing back in a millisecond. "I... never told him I loved him." She remembered. "Not even afterward; I just- just fell asleep."

"But you still say you love Stan." Clyde Frog added. "And that's after he's broken your heart, what, two or three times?"

"It's easy to say I love Stan because he's easy to trust." She admitted. "I can say it without something like this happening. If I said it to Cartman... he would find a way to use it against me."

"Maybe he would," the frog admitted. "But you aren't gonna know because you never said it. Not to him. He liked you and you liked someone else better. That shit hurts, even with people like Eric Cartman."

"I do know, because I _showed _him I loved him and he used _that _against me." She sighed, leaning her chin in her palm. "And I didn't like Stan better. Stan is just a friend. Cartman was... my heart."

"But he didn't know that. Any of it...Besides, he couldn't have planned the whole thing. What if you didn't fall asleep?"

"I... don't know." She admitted. "But that doesn't add up. Why would he decide to humiliate me after I fell asleep? It's not like I did something there to hurt him. It had to have been planned beforehand."

"It was instinct. If you didn't fall asleep, he couldn't have taken the pictures. I'm sure he would've done something to you anyway, but I think the sex was still genuine."

"I hope that's not supposed to make me feel better." She glowered. "You said he talks about me. What does he say?"

"Lots of stuff. Today he said what happened in class. He thinks you'll never talk to him again."

"For once; he thinks right. I guess he's pretty happy with himself."

"It's a hollow victory." the frog admitted on Eric's behalf. "You're still close with Stan, and nothing he does is going to change that. He'd be happier if you told him all the stuff you're telling me."

She shook her head. "He doesn't need to be any happier. He was smiling all damn day. _I'm _the one who needs cheering up and it suits me just fine not talking to him."

"So what would cheer _you _up?" he asked curiously.

Her anger evaporated, and she was surprised at the question. "It would cheer me up if he just... _stopped_. No more insults, no more note passing, no more smirks. He had his fun, now I just want to be left alone. It kills me just to see him, but to hear him mocking me for loving him is just too much. I don't want to end up like Kyle."

"Maybe he would stop if he knew the person he was hurting actually cared...I have to get back to my swim. It was nice seeing you again. You're both really nice people, so whatever you do is fine with me. Either way I'd love for him to stop going on about all this so I can leave."

"So you can leave?" She parroted. "Leave where?"

"Him. You see, it's my job to bring happiness. Usually I help children, but well, Eric never got happy like most kids, so I stayed with him. Haven't you ever wondered why he carries around a doll at his age?"

"Well, because he's _Cartman_."

"Well, yeah...Once he's happy, he won't need me anymore."

"He seems pretty happy if you ask me." She insisted, eyes searching the water. "Thank you for... just thank you."

"You're welcome. It's what I do." He began moving again, though not on his own.

---

The next day at school the super-committed gay couple were showing off their new promise rings to anyone with vision. They truly were here and queer, minus the giant parade. They joined their usual friends at lunch, though Cartman was less than pleased to see them.

"Will you fags give it a rest already? Christ, get a room."

"We will later." Kyle assured merrily, twisting a finger across his new ring. "You wouldn't be able to shut up either, if you had a kick-ass ring from your hot as hell lover."

Stan placed an arm around Kyle. "H'yeah really…"

"That's fahn. Wear your stupid rings. It's not like they really count. You assholes can never get married, never have kids, or any of the kewl stuff _real _people do."

"It does so count!" Kyle argued back, never quite able to rid himself of his childish bickering. "Instead of getting a piece of paper saying we're married, I have something really cool I can have with me all the time, a reminder that Stan loves me and only me. You're one to talk anyway, fat boy, you don't even have that!"

"Yeah!" Stan agreed. "At the rate you're going, you'll never get married anyway."

Cartman glared at the black haired boy. It's true what they say; The truth hurts. "You know what Stan? Kiss my ass. You like asses. Get on your knees and kiss my ass, fag!"

"Not even a fag would wanna kiss your ass, Cartman!" Kyle was the first to retort.

"Jew, shouldn't you be off crying in a corner somewhere?"

"For your information, Kyle's doing a lot better. No thanks to you." Stan kissed his partner on the mouth, both to be randomly affectionate and hopefully disgust their fat friend.

Kyle smiled into it before deepening the kiss and smoothing his hands down Stan's back, hoping for a bonus of Cartman either leaving or puking his guts out from pure mortification.

Eric glared angrily at them. Inside he wished he could share those dumb little romantic moments sometimes, only with a girl of course. Ah hell, who was he kidding? He knew who he wanted to share those moments with. But it was probably too late now. Not wanting to watch two guys make out, he turned his attention to Kenny.

"So how are you?"

Kenny's eyes were wide with interest, not even attempting to blink as he watched the action across from him. "Damn, I'm fuckin' great right now, dude."

Cartman slammed his fist down on the table. "That does it! Screw you guys, I'm going home!"

"No you're not." Kenny shook his head. "You always say that, but you hardly ever leave. Besides, you haven't eaten yet."

"...God dammit..." Cartman reluctantly sat back down, drawing laughs from the queers across the table.

"What's wrong, you want me to get you a promise ring?" Kenny teased, coasting his hand up Cartman's sleeve.

Cartman batted the offending hand away. "You know what? I hope you all die! Just die in a fire. That'd be sweet."

"Been there, done that." Kenny shrugged it off.

"What the hell is your problem, anyway?" Kyle chimed in. "You're usually an asshole, but today you've been like, Barbara Streisand bitchy. You got sand in your vagina or something?"

"I'm fine!" Cartman responded quickly. "I'm just sick of all this love shit."

"Sick or jealous?" Stan questioned before feeding a grape to his lover.

"He's jealous." Kenny spoke up. "We're all getting screwed regularly, and he wont get laid again until at least after college."

Cartman sighed in frustration. "It's about a lot more than sex, dickhead."

Stan shrugged, continuing to share food with Kyle. "You've got no one to blame but yourself, dude. You had Wendy and you screwed it up."

"Yeah, thanks to you!"

"Cartman, look at me!! I'm not a fucking threat to you or anybody's girlfriend!"

"Yeah, Stan hasn't done anything to fuck things up for you! He's been too busy trying to deal with my bitchiness, which is _your _fault in the first place! So if that somehow screwed things up for you, you've still got no one to blame but yourself!" Kyle pointed out.

"Whoa, you guys should be on Jerry Springer." Kenny declared.

Cartman scoffed. "Yeah Kyle, like I'm the only reason you're a little bitch. You'll be whining about something else by tomorrow."

"No he won't." Stan answered for his mate. "As long as I'm around, I'm gonna make sure he's happy as much as possible. And I'm gonna be around a long time." Stan joined his hand with Kyle's, once again showing off the eternal symbolism of the rings.

"Maybe you're the one who needs the therapy now." Kyle recommended, unconsciously leaning into Stan. "You're pretty fucked up in the head."

Cartman stood from the table. "I've lost my appetite." He simply walked off, tired of seeing the great things he couldn't have.

---

He couldn't take it. He had to see her just one more time. It would probably be the last time. He'd already gotten what he'd expected to be their last kiss, and their first and last lovemaking memory. Now it was time to give her one last good memory before they went back to square one, or so Cartman expected. As the rain poured down on his already soaked body, he knocked at Wendy's front door.

Wendy stared at the door from her spot on the couch, not feeling up to any company at the moment. With a reluctant sigh, she uncurled herself from the blanket keeping her warm and opened the door. She felt her heart stop and then plummet at seeing Cartman there, but managed to keep a cool front.

"I told you to leave me alone, Cartman."

He looked downward, putting his hands behind his back nervously. "I know, but I have to say some stuff. Can I come in? I swear this is the last time you have to talk to me."

"I don't _have _to do anything." She reminded him crossly, deciding to give in anyway. "Empty your pockets. I don't want any microphones, recorders, cameras, or anything in that family in here."

Cartman sighed, doing as she requested. He couldn't blame her for not trusting him. He was clean. He spoke again, still outside her house as the rain hit him.

"I was thinking about what I did and...Well, if the guys at school keep giving you shit over it, you can tell them I drugged you if you want. They'll buy it coming from me." He frowned.

"Fortunately for me, I've only had a problem with a handful of them. Everyone thinks _you're_ the asshole." She rolled her eyes angrily as she stepped inside. "Come inside before you get sick."

"Thanks," he said as he headed inside and removed his dripping hat. "Anyway, they're right. I _am _an asshole. I always have been. Heh. Come on, you know that."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "_I never denied it_."

"So you wanna hit me?" he asked casually. "You probably hate me now. I know you wanna do something."

"What I want is to go back in time and stop myself from ever associating with you." She took his hat from him, opening the door to wring it out before handing it back to him. "Since that's impossible, I just want you to leave me alone. Okay? I don't want revenge. I would never want anyone to go through the pain you put me through; not even you. You can't break me down any more than you have. So please, find a new victim."

He pouted, tears very slowly building in his eyes. "I...I'm not trying to break you down. Please, just do something okay? Hit me. Claw my face. Do _something_! Please? You'll...you'll feel better..."

He turned his back to the girl, whimpering ever so slightly and trying to hide it. "I...I can't leave you alone if you don't...You have to make me hate you. I'm giving you a chance to hurt me, so just do it all right?!" The tears finally started to fall.

Her eyebrows knit in concern at his outburst. "Are you... _crying_?" She asked incredulously, unable to stop herself from reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder.

"I...I just have something in my eye..." he answered, obviously lying yet again. He wiped his eyes as quickly as possible, wanting to maintain some level of masculinity. "Dammit Wendy, I don't wanna love you anymore! It hurts too much. Please...I-I'm saying I'll let you hurt me...Please..." he pleaded pathetically.

Her mouth opened in surprise. Was this another trick, or was Clyde Frog telling the truth?

"I want to hurt you." She confessed. "I want to make you feel every ounce of misery you put me through." She put her head down, closing her eyes. "But as much as I want to, I don't want to. You drained me, Cartman. I don't have anything left to fight with."

Cartman sighed deeply, turning around to face her. He composed himself and spoke again.

"Well then we're screwed...Wendy, I can't stop loving you if you don't make me. If you really want me to leave you alone, you're gonna have to give me a reason...You probably just think I'm lying again, but I'm not. I can't stop this. I want to, but I can't. I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop getting jealous...I-I just want it to end, and I can't make it by myself. I can't stop loving you and it fucking sucks! How the hell can you _not _hurt me anyway?! I'd hurt me! What the fuck?"

"Because you don't hurt the people you love!" She finally shouted back, the anger feeling good rushing through her blood. "When you love someone, you can't turn it off and on at will! You just _love _them, and why would anyone want to hurt someone they love? How the hell could you say you love me and then hurt me that way?!" She countered, her own tears beginning to sting at her eyes.

"Because you were hurting me!" he shot back. "I saw how close you were with Stan. I heard you say you loved him. I didn't want that! I didn't want you that close with anybody but me! I got jealous, I got hurt, so I did it!"

He took a moment to fight back more tears, though he could certainly tell Wendy was now crying. He removed his coat, and cautiously offered her a dry shoulder to cry on. His tone softened and he continued.

"...I don't want to hurt anymore...And...And I don't want you to hurt either...I thought if I came here that you'd kick my ass, you'd feel better, and I'd stop feeling how I do...Then we could both move on you know? ...But obviously that's not gonna happen, so I guess we're fucked."

She grit her teeth, feeling herself tense up at his words. She passed up his comforting gesture, instead grabbing the front of his shirt and shoving him violently against the wall, the tears heavier. "Is that what you want? Is this what will make you feel better?!" She screamed, cracking her palm against his cheek. "Is that better?! Did all your feelings just go away?! Do you feel fucking happy now Cartman?!" She jammed her fists into his chest several time. "Because I sure as hell don't!"

Cartman groaned, just holding still and taking the deserved abuse. He could've hit her back. In fact, in a true fight he was certain he would've beaten the hell out of her. But that wasn't going to happen. Like Wendy, he hurt too much to fight both emotionally and physically.

Sadly, she was right. He didn't feel better at all.

She gave him one last shove against the wall before breaking away. "Now you got what you wanted! So go ahead and leave! Maybe you can move on, but I can't! Go gloat about it, now you're free to move on!"

Eric clutched the back of his head, falling to the living room floor in defeat. "I don't _want _to move on!" he finally answered her. "That's the problem! I want to be with _you_, but I obviously can't have that. So what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"You _had _me!" She argued, not bothering to help him up. "I was so in love with you! I let you get as close to me as physically and emotionally possible! You couldn't have wanted to be with me too badly, because you had absolutely no problem shattering not only what we had going, but my heart and my trust in you!"

Eric listened to her words. They all registered, but a few stuck out especially in his mind. He staggered to his feet, leaning against her wall for support a moment before replying.

"...You really think it was that easy for me, don't you? You think I _liked _giving you up? The first girl that I ever said I loved? The one who took my virginity? Oh yeah, it was lots of fun Wendy! God, it's called a front! That's what I do! People like Kyle cry like pussies, I hide it! I hide how I feel! ...Only you got me to say it. You got me to say I love you, which is more than I've said to a lot of people. It's more than you ever said to me...You know, you're gonna get over this no matter how hurt you are now. You're gonna move on and find some other guy, and it's gonna kill me to see you with him. Me? I'm gonna be lonely forever. I'm never gonna get married or have kids. I'm never even gonna have those lame ass promise rings like Stan and Kyle...And you actually think I _liked _giving up my only shot at being happy? Sure, believe what you want..."

He headed for the door.

"...I have nothing to lose right now. I can tell you exactly what I think and not feel bad, because I know when I leave here that's it for us...I love you, and I can't stop. That's the truth whether you believe it or not...I wanted you kept away from every other guy at school. That's how bad I wanted you...Maybe I didn't express it right, but what the hell do I know about love? ...Anyway, I'll go now...I'm sorry I hurt you... That's the truth."

"But I don't want you to go!" She protested. "I wont move on, I'll sit here and cry my eyes out like I have every other night since this happened! You don't think I'll _ever _stop loving Stan? Than what makes you think I could ever stop loving you?"

Cartman moved slowly away from the door. He just stared at her, both of them silent for what seemed like forever. "...Y...You really love me?"

She puffed out a breath of relief, thankful he didn't slam the door on her words. "I love you more than I'll ever love Stan; I love you in a completely _different_ way. I thought you knew."

Cartman shook his head. "How could I? You never told me before."

"I was too afraid that you would use it against me, or even just laugh at me." She tried wiping tears away unsuccessfully. "And on prom night, I was too caught up in the moment. I was scared that night, Cartman. You were acting funny after we got to Tweek's party, like you were mad at me. I was still too afraid to tell you."

He approached her, sighing as he sorted all this out.

"I guess I can't blame you for that...I've never been a very nice guy...I really don't deserve someone like you, you know."

She reached her hand out toward his cautiously, slowly enveloping it in her own. Her eyes focused on their hands the entire time. "Were you mad at me that night?" She asked quietly. "Was this whole thing planned out?"

He sighed, also staring down at their locked hands as he spoke quietly. "I...I was mad..." he admitted. "But it wasn't like that. I swear...Wendy, I've wanted you for a while...I still do...I mean, you're hot."

A slight grin curved her lips, but died instantly. "Was it something I said, or something I did? I know why you did what you did, but I want to know when you decided to. What exactly happened that drove you to that point?"

He blinked at her a few times, and scratched his head in confusion. Why the hell did women like to talk like this? He decided to answer her though. They were both obviously on an honesty kick at the moment anyway.

"When I saw you dancing with Stan, I knew I wanted to do something...I was jealous...I didn't know what I was gonna do exactly until after you fell asleep...I found a camera and it just clicked in my head...But I _did _want you, and I was gonna try something anyway...It wasn't your fault, a-and I'm sorry if I like totally ruined your first time now."

She released his hand and abruptly clung to him, not even giving him a chance to reject it. "Our second time can be better." She whispered.

He grinned widely, not wanting to turn down the invitation for a number of reasons. He clung back against the girl, hugging her tightly and not wanting to stop. Tears again began to fall, but these were ones of joy. "Love is _so _fucked up." he commented.

"It doesn't have to be anymore." She nuzzled her nose in his neck, trying to keep her own tears from falling again. She froze suddenly, "Are you tricking me again?"

"I'm not." he said. "I promise...I love you, and I wanna be with you...Forever."

She hugged him tightly. "I love you, too." Wendy didn't make the mistake of waiting to say that again. She pulled back just enough to gaze at him, and let her lips melt against his.

Eric gladly returned the kiss, his tears already drying on his face. He liked this a lot more than fighting with Wendy. He continued to hold her close, not breaking their embrace until he was forced to breathe through his mouth again. He placed his hands on her shoulders, gently moving her down on the couch. "Think you can teach me to be less of an asshole?" he questioned as he mounted the girl.

"If you can teach me to be less of a hippie." She smiled back.

Cartman smiled and brought his lips to hers yet again. "We'll learn together."

As the couple began to kiss more heavily, a figure watched on through the window from outside Wendy's house. It was Clyde Frog.

"He's finally happy..."

For the first time the doll moved on his own, hopping away to find someone else that needed him.

---

**The End.**

* * *

_KyleisGod & BratChild3_


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